


Broken Wings

by flutistgirl



Series: Everglow [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 86
Words: 79,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutistgirl/pseuds/flutistgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all of Sephiroth's past life was left behind at Nibelheim.<br/>In many ways, it was a grave, though no body was buried beneath. It symbolized the same thing. There, under the shelter of that tree, he had died. This was the anniversary. This was the only time she allowed herself to think of him. “Pathetic, isn’t it?” She smiled grimly, silently laughing at some morbid joke. “You’d think I’d want to part ways after he left me…especially after he left me like he did…” She fingered her wedding band. “Yes, I still love him. He was…he is everything to me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Memorial

           The night was cold, the moon was full, and the freshly fallen snow glittered like powdered diamonds. A lone pair of footprints wound its way through the skeletal trees, stopping where a young woman stood. She was in an elaborate white gown with a bodice embroidered with pearls, a flowing satin skirt, and a long veil of lace trailing behind her. Her skin was nearly as pale as the snow itself, and was marked with bruises and half-healed wounds, the more serious ones bound with strips of cloth.

            She knelt down at the base of a white weeping willow, ignoring the bite of the cold, and bowed her head over her folded hands. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, made pale gold in the moonlight, veiling her face and sapphire eyes. After a hushed prayer, her fingertips reached out to stroke the monument before her. In many ways, it was a grave, though no body was buried beneath. It symbolized the same thing. There, under the shelter of that tree, he had died.

            Just as she did every year, she began to timidly sing a requiem in a voice that trembled with emotion. She briefly wondered if he could hear her, or if he did, if he even cared.

            She turned her gaze skyward when a lone black feather fell, brushing against her cheek before falling to the ground. “No,” she whispered. “You’re dead. Leave me.”

            He didn’t respond, but she knew he was there. She could feel his eyes burning into her. Maybe his sword was drawn; perhaps he was now ready to end her life at last. “Just go,” she pleaded, turning her eyes back to the frozen earth.

            After an eternity’s hesitation, she heard the flapping of a solitary wing, a sound that gradually faded over an insurmountable distance. She sighed heavily as he left her in her solitude, beginning to rock back and forth as she resumed her song with renewed reverence.

            This was the anniversary. This was the only time she allowed herself to think of him.

            She had long since stopped shivering, and she knew she should leave lest she be taken by the cold, but she found that she couldn’t move. There was no pain; even the numbing cold had lost its sting. She could not feel the once cold trail of her half-frozen tears on her cheeks. The cold took not only her physical sensation, but a great deal of her consciousness. She felt as if in a dream, drifting, aimless.

            She heard the clashing of swords in the distance, creating a rhythm that only the warriors could follow. Voices flew on the wind to where she sat, increasing in volume and intensity with the heightening tempo of the battle and the decreasing distance.

            Soon they were close enough for her to see their silhouettes. She saw swords spark as they danced, quick as lightning, in the moonlight. She watched the men with all her energy. Her heart was in her throat; she could hear its roar in her ears.

For a moment, as if he had felt her gaze, the taller combatant paused, and glanced her way.

            “Stop,” she whispered. “Please….no more….”

            The taller man’s opponent noticed the lapse in his enemy’s attention, and tried to take advantage of it. It did not matter; the assault was blocked effortlessly. No matter what he tried, the smaller man could not gain a hand over the first.

            She belatedly realized that the tides were turning, whether because she was too tired to see it immediately or because the shift in tactics had been that subtle and seamless, she could not tell. Either way, the taller man was undeniably pushing the other back. The second did not seem to realize that he was losing ground and being intentionally pushed in a very specific direction: towards _her_.

            When the two men were at the fringe of the clearing where she rested, the taller man hit his opponent squarely in the chest, sending him flying. The smaller man landed just short of the willow tree where she rested, but quickly recovered, and made as if to charge again. In the shadows, however, the shorter man’s foe spread a single wing to its full length, and then was gone.

             After his concentration had been removed from the skirmish, the smaller man turned to her, somewhat startled by her presence. He had spiked blonde hair, his eyes were an icy blue, and he was dressed in black with a massive sword still grasped in his hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

            She simply gazed at the place where the winged man had disappeared with blank, emotionless eyes.

            “Are you all right?” he asked again.

            “No,” she breathed, her voice weak airy. “No, I don’t think I am.”

The man recoiled as he spotted the wounds on her arms, “Did Sephiroth do this to you?”

            She could give no answer but a shudder.

            “Can you stand?” he asked, extending his hands down to her in an offer of support.

            Only then did she turn to look at him. She held his forearms tentatively and began to stand, but found that she could not. He helped ease her back to the ground before she could fall.

            “Let me carry you, then. I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

            The woman hesitated, but nodded her head once in consent. He picked her up, and winced as he felt how cold she was. He looked around for something to wrap her in, but found nothing. He gripped her frozen fingers, warming them in his hands as he ran.

            “I’m Cloud,” he said.

            “I know,” she whispered. “He told me about you.”

            Cloud decided not to ask who “he” was. “What’s your name?”

            She hesitated, and for a while he thought that she had fallen unconscious.

            “He called me Aralyn,” she said softly.

            She soon slipped into sleep, and Cloud picked up his pace, afraid that she would fall prey to the winter’s cold. Her breathing was halting and shallow, and her lips were touched with blue. As her hand went limp, a single black feather slipped from her grip, and Cloud scowled, thinking only for a moment that, perhaps, he knew just who “he” was.

            He brushed the thought aside.

            It simply was not possible.

~*~*~*~


	2. Little Stranger

_A young boy sat at the foot of the hospital bed, legs crossed, as he watched the bed’s sleeping occupant. He blinked once, twice, then three times, but nothing changed. She did not even stir. He frowned in impatience as he blew his long bangs out of his face._

_He only half heard the door open and the professor enter. The older man laughed kindly. “Thought I might find you here, Sephiroth. How long have you been here? Hojo’s been looking all over for you.” When the boy didn’t answer, the professor shook his head. “Have you been enjoying yourself?_

_Sephiroth frowned, but tilted his head in curiosity, not taking his inquisitive gaze off the bed’s occupant. “Who is she, Gast?” he asked simply._

_“Are you interested?”_

_“No,” he insisted. “I don’t care. I’m just…wondering. That’s all.”_

_“I see.”_

_Sephiroth huffed softly. Gast often played these types of games with him._

_“What’s her name?” Sephiroth asked after a long silence._

_“We don’t know. She’s not in the records,” was the curt, but not unkind, reply. “Maybe she’ll tell us when she wakes up.”_

_“How’d she get here?”_

_“Unfortunately, Professor Hojo found her.”_

_The boy fell silent, and the aura around him grew tense with dislike. “So Hojo’s going to…”_

_“Don’t worry about her,” Gast said it calmly, but with an air of disapproval. He put a hand on the Sephiroth’s shoulder. “Nothing has happened yet.”_

_Sephiroth pushed the hand from his shoulder. “I know that.”_

_“All right. Just in case you were worrying.”_

_“I wasn’t.”_

_“Good, I’m glad.” Gast went elsewhere in the room and began to record something on a chart. As hesitant as Sephiroth was to approach the sleeping girl, curiosity got the better of him, and Gast’s unsatisfactory answers propelled him onward. He scooted up so he sat at her side, dangling his legs off the side of the bed._

_As far as Sephiroth was concerned, he was the only one his size in all of Shinra – it was eerie to see someone who he could at least meet eyes with, if he wasn’t taller than her. He squinted his eyes in concentration. She was blonde, and about his size. That was all he knew about her, and it bothered him._

_“What are those red spots on her face?” Sephiroth asked, pointing to the band of dots under her eyes._

_“Freckles, Sephiroth.”_

_“I’ve never seen them before.”_

_“They’re quite common.”_

_“Then why haven’t I seen them?”_

_“You haven’t been outside Shinra…yet.”_

_Sephiroth disregarded the comment. Gast had been promising he could see the outside world for as long as he could remember. It hadn’t happened yet._

_Distractedly, he began to play with the wires that ran into the girl’s wrist and hand. When he tired of this, he picked up her hand and thoroughly examined both sides of it._

_“Let her rest, Sephiroth,” Gast admonished._

_Sephiroth pouted, but put her hand down as Gast had instructed._

_“Do you want to help me take her vitals? It would be good practice for you.”_

_“No,” he said._

_“Then could you move over so I can get to her?”_

_Sephiroth silently complied, returning to the foot of the bed._

_The boy watched intently as Gast took her temperature and blood pressure, and then gently turned her on her side to press the stethoscope to her back._

_“I’m glad that you have someone here that’s your own age now,” Gast said. “It’s not good for you to be so alone.”_

_The boy glared, his pride wounded. “I don’t need anyone.”_

_Gast laughed in a soft, melancholy way. “If you say so, Sephiroth.” He draped the stethoscope around his neck and hung the other equipment on the wall. “She’s doing just fine,” he said, adjusting her hospital gown to expose a part of her shoulder. He swiftly administered an injection – the girl hardly winced – and then laid her on her back and adjusted the sheets around her. “We probably ought to let her rest now.”_

_“Can I stay here?” Sephiroth asked eagerly. “I promise I’ll be good!”_

_“She won’t wake for hours at the earliest,” was Gast’s firm reply. “And you have somewhere to be.”_

_“Oh.” The word was quiet. The excitement that was previously in his voice was gone. The weight on her mattress shifted as he slowly but obediently left her side._

_“If it will make you feel better,” Gast added, “I’ll bring you here after your treatment.”_

_“Hojo won’t let me,” the boy stated simply, the resentful note still in his voice._

_Gast was undeterred. “Let me deal with him. You’ll see her later, I promise. Say goodbye, now.”_

_Sephiroth’s tone was confused. “She’s asleep, she can’t hear me.”_

_“You’d be surprised. She’s been fidgeting; perhaps her senses are already intact.”_

_Sephiroth leapt back onto the bed beside the girl, compressing an area in the mattress near her hip. “Bye,” Sephiroth said, and then added in a whisper, “wake up soon!” He tentatively touched her hand once more._

_Gast lifted him from her side. “Come on. You’ll see her later today.”_

_Sephiroth couldn’t help but notice how Gast bolted the door behind them as they exited._

~*~*~*~


	3. Secrets and Inquiries

           Aralyn awoke in an unfamiliar room. The plain but comfortable bed she was on had a thick, cotton quilt, which was matted around her from her unconscious tossing and turning. The curtains had been drawn closed, but some light spilled in where the two fabrics did not fully meet. A small lamp was on a table by her head with a few other trinkets: a chocobo figurine, some stray books, and a phone. Photographs, decorative paintings, and children’s sketches were tacked to the walls in no particular order, adding a homey feel to the otherwise bland room.

            She slowly uncurled herself, feeling her stiff muscles stretch. Her arms unwound the blankets from her body and for a moment she sat up, dangling her feet off the side of the bed. Her head swam, and she quickly laid back down to stop the room’s spinning.

            Tiny, rapid footsteps sounded from just outside her door. A small head peeked in the room and wide, dark eyes examined her. “Oh, you’re awake!” A little girl skipped into the room with a small stuffed moogle in tow. She reached up and wriggled her way onto the bed beside Aralyn, sitting cross-legged and smiling.

            “Hi!” she chirped.

            “Hello,” Aralyn replied, managing a smile though she lacked the enthusiasm and energy that the girl had. “What’s your name?”

            “I’m Marlene,” she said. “And you’re Aralyn?”

            Aralyn nodded her head, and that was all the confirmation the little girl needed. “Cloud and Tifa talk about you a lot.” She continued. “You and Sephiroth.”

            The comment was made idly, but it hit Aralyn hard. She hoped the shock didn’t show on her face. “What are they saying…about us?”

            “They’re just wondering why he attacked you. I mean, _I’m_ not surprised. This is Sephiroth we’re talking about. He wants to make _everybody_ go away.”

            Aralyn quietly hummed an affirmative, sitting up in the bed again.

            “Do you know him?” Marlene asked, her voice inquisitive and slightly accusing.

            Aralyn laughed bitterly. She wished Marlene had asked her a simpler question. Sighing, she simplified the answer into one that the young girl would understand.  “No, Marlene,” she said. “But I know _of_ him. Tell me, what’s he like?”

            “Bad,” Marlene said. “Very bad. He’s so angry at the planet that he wants everyone to die. He killed a lot of my friends. He tried to kill _everyone_. But Cloud stopped him twice, so it’s okay now. Cloud won’t let him hurt you anymore. He’ll stop him as many times as it takes for Sephiroth to _really_ die.” She fiddled with her moogle’s pompom, adjusting it so it fell over the forehead. She didn’t notice how Aralyn had gone stark white in response to the last thing she had said.

            When her friend was properly groomed, Marlene turned back to Aralyn. “What’s that around your neck?”

            Instinctively, Aralyn’s hand flew to the chain, hiding it in a tightly clenched hand. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

            Marlene frowned, then shrugged. “Okay.” Downstairs, a small bell rang, and the girl jumped to the floor. “Cloud’s back! Come and see!”

            Aralyn did not follow. She sat and listened to Marlene and the others cheerfully greet Cloud. They sounded happy – like a family – and it created a great ache in her chest.

            She sat for a long time, listening, listing to herself all the reasons why she shouldn’t go down. She didn’t want to interrupt, and she obviously wasn’t a part of the family.

And what would they say when they saw that the wounds on her arms and face had already healed? There weren’t even scars – there was no sign at all that she had even been injured. They had disappeared overnight.

            Just as they did every year.

            She knew she couldn’t hide – not for long – but she stayed where she was to enjoy a few more moments of peace before the inevitable interrogations began.

            She stroked her hand, where last night a long gash had split her palm. She knew that she had been blessed to heal so quickly, but listening to the family downstairs, she was reminded that in a lot of ways, many wounds still remained.

~*~*~*~

            Two silver-haired brothers sat deftly on the windowsill of the second-floor window, the shorter of the two eagerly looking in.

            Kadaj, the younger brother, laughed. “That’s _it_? Given the circumstances I had expected someone more…well, _worthwhile_.”

            “I don’t pretend to understand it either.”

            Kadaj tilted his head to the side, pressing his face closer to the glass. “What do you think of her, Yazoo?”

            The elder brother shook his head, distractedly fingering his gun-blade. “We shouldn’t be here.”

            Kadaj shot his brother a look of irritation. “Oh come on, you wanted to see as badly as I did.” He returned his gaze to the window.

             “If Sephiroth finds out you were here—“

            “He won’t! Stop being a spoil sport. Come on! Take a peek.” Kadaj moved over a few feet, making room for his brother on the sill. When he did not come, Kadaj returned to his original place, staring in childlike fascination for a long time. “Such a plain, ordinary creature.” His face furrowed, his catlike eyes flashing venom green in a burst of fury. “ _Disgusting_ ,” he seethed.

            Yazoo leapt from the sill, landing on his feet without as much as a whisper of sound. “We have to get back.” He did not wait for his younger brother to follow, and began to start up his motorbike.

            The sound startled the girl in the window, and she looked around in fright. Kadaj did not try to conceal himself, only grinned widely, hoping she could see his eyes, his hair. Judging by the look of horror in her eyes, she did.

            Pleased with his work, he followed his brother, getting on his own motorcycle and preparing to ride.

            “She saw you, didn’t she?” Yazoo asked accusingly.

            “Let her think about _that_ for a while,” Kadaj laughed. “It’s not like she won’t be seeing us soon, anyway.”

            Yazoo frowned. “You speak treason,” he said before he sped off into the city’s alleys.

            “No, brother,” Kadaj purred with a smile as he watched his brother disappear. “It’s you that’s the traitor.”

~*~*~*~


	4. Silver Angel

_When she awakened, he was standing at her bedside, peering at her through the steel rails on the side of her bed._

_She was startled to find a child who was very markedly different from herself. Long, silver hair fell to his waist, his bangs shorter, framing a pale face. He was wearing only a plain, white hospital gown that hung on slender shoulders, and thin slippers between his feet and the cold tile. Bright, emerald green eyes peered at her, glowing with an unnatural light of their own, masking the flicker of his carefully guarded emotions. “Hello.” Despite looking so different, he sounded like she felt – timid, a little nervous._

_“Hi,” she said back. “Are you Sephiroth?”_

_The boy only blinked and didn’t come any closer. One of the rails was still partially obstructing her view of him. “Gast said you were probably listening. I’m…” he awkwardly searched for the appropriate words to say, “…glad…you’re up.”_

_There were several beats of dead silence._

_“What’s your name?”_

_She opened her mouth to tell him, but hesitated. “I…don’t think I should tell you.” she admitted, abashed._

_Sephiroth tilted his head, obviously thinking this was curious. “Why not?”_

_“Um, because.”_

_“What am I supposed to call you, then?”_

_“I don’t know. Whatever you’d like, I suppose.”_

_“Hm,” he hummed, frowning slightly. “I guess I’ll think of something.”_

_As he grew bolder, Sephiroth finally pulled himself up to sit beside her on the bed. The jumping motion bounced the two up and down and she giggled as her body rocked._

_Without the bars hiding him from her sight, the girl made another startling discovery. She stopped laughing and gasped, eyes wide with this new revelation._

_From Sephiroth’s back sprouted a single, ebony wing. The span was easily longer than his outstretched arm; she didn’t see how she could have missed it before._

_Sephiroth followed her gaze. “Oh,” he said, his head lowering and his eyes dimming. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”_

_The girl couldn’t speak, couldn’t hardly breathe._

_Sephiroth started to slide down her bed when she regained her composure. She seized his hand, surprised at how cold it was. “No!” she cried. “It’s beautiful!”_

_Sephiroth turned to her, surprised. “Beautiful?” He spoke the word disbelievingly, as if thinking that he hadn’t heard her right. “No one’s ever called it that before…” He sidled back to her side, moving closer than he had been previously._

_“Can I…?” She extended her fingers, her eyes simultaneously shining with wonder and pleading for permission._

_Sephiroth unfurled his wing as far as he could, sweeping air across her. A feather fell, brushing her face and falling in her lap. Her mouth fell slightly open; it was more majestic than she ever could have imagined. “Go ahead,” he said with a small smile. “It’s not like it will hurt me.”_

_She reached out and skimmed her fingers across his wing, timidly at first, but soon stroking it longingly. “Can you…fly?”_

_“Hojo says I might, one day. He would like that. It’s why he gave it to me in the first place.”_

_She stopped abruptly, alarmed. “You weren’t born with this?”_

_“No,” Sephiroth shrugged. “Just another experiment.”_

_She raised her head to look at him, horrified. “Experiment? Is this okay with you?”_

_Sephiroth looked at her, confused. She could tell the answer, though he never specified it. “That’s the way it’s always been.”_

_She looked at him in shock. “This isn’t the only thing he’s done to you, is it?” Something in his eyes made her afraid to ask for specifics._

_Sephiroth shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Despite his cool demeanor, he didn’t manage to convince her that he didn’t care about what was being done to him._

_“Hojo says the experiments will make me strong, that I’ll be a great hero someday,” he offered._

_“But it’s not right--!”_

_She didn’t get a chance to finish, because the pair was interrupted by a visitor._

_~*~*~*~_


	5. An Odd Visitor

           The figure at the window was what scared Aralyn out of her bed. While she didn’t yet know if the people downstairs were friend or foe, she could certainly tell that the man in the window was malicious, if not hostile. She decided to take her chances with the former group.

           The lower floor was plain, but had been arranged to comfortably accommodate many people. Behind the counter, a young woman with straight black hair wiped down plates and arranged them neatly in a nearby cabinet, occasionally adding a comment to the ongoing conversation between the people behind her. Seated at one of the tables was Cloud, her rescuer from the ruins, with Marlene on his lap and an auburn haired boy next to him.

            “You’re supposed to be in bed!” Marlene squealed, folding her arms and pouting as soon as she caught sight of her. “Cloud said so.”

            “She seems fine to me,” the black haired woman offered. She turned to Aralyn, smiling. “Nice to see you up! Welcome to the Seventh Heaven!” She closed the cabinet she had been filling with dishes and approached her, extending a hand in welcome. “I’m Tifa. You’ve already met Cloud and Marlene, and the boy is Denzel. And your name is Aralyn?”

            “Yes,” Aralyn said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She nodded her head in the direction of the others. Denzel gave her a wave and Cloud just looked at her with unreadable eyes.

            “Are you hungry?” Tifa asked.

            “I could use a little something, thank you.”

            She nodded and went into the back room, calling out as she left. “Cloud, will you get her something from the refrigerator?”

            The blonde man stood, placing Marlene on her feet before he walked to fulfill the request. She sat next to the two children, and when Cloud returned, he slid glass of soda toward her, and she partook gratefully.

            “Thirsty?” he asked when she downed the whole glass in seconds.

            “It’s just so good after all that water…”

            “Water?” he asked.

            Aralyn bit her lip. “I don’t…get out much.”

            “Oh.” He put his own soda in front of her, and waved her on when she made as if to protest. Though he seemed casual enough, Aralyn had a sinking suspicion that this was the beginning of an attempt at interrogation. She sipped the soda slowly, looking into the glass instead of at Cloud.

            “Denzel, Marlene, go play outside,” Cloud said, and the boy and the girl obediently left, leaving Aralyn alone with Cloud.

            “You’re healed,” he commented. “That was…fast.”

            Aralyn smiled nervously and continued to sip, hoping to evade the question with the excuse that she was drinking.

            “….That’s good, I guess,” he admitted when she would not clarify further. “Not many who encounter Sephiroth can say as much.”

             She noticeably winced. “No, I guess they can’t.” She forced a small smile. “Guess I got pretty lucky.”

            Cloud looked at her intensely, and Aralyn wanted to disappear. She was running out of soda to use as an excuse - soon she would be forced to speak.

            When she remained adamantly silent, Cloud stood and turned his back to her, facing out the window. No one spoke for several minutes.

            “Luck?” Cloud said after a long time. “That can’t be all. With Sephiroth, it never is.”

            Aralyn’s soda was gone, and she couldn’t hide it because the ice rattled in the empty cup as she placed it down. Cloud waited for her answer. It was a long time in coming.

             “I go there often. Maybe he’s seen me before, and doesn’t have any reason to think I’m a threat….”

            Cloud turned to her again, and locked his icy eyes with hers.

            “That wouldn’t matter. Sephiroth doesn’t need a reason to murder.”

            She choked on her breath, and she knew he saw it. “I—“

            “Do you know why he spared your life?” Cloud asked, point-blank.

            Aralyn was backed into a corner. She didn’t want to lie, but to tell the truth would be disregarding any sense of self-preservation that she had.

            “Cloud! What are you doing to the girl? She’s white as a sheet!”

            Tifa returned with a plate filled with food in one hand and a bowl of steaming soup in the other. She set the food in front of Aralyn along with a freshly cleaned batch of silverware and another soda.

            “I’m sorry about Cloud, Aralyn. He tends to get tense where Sephiroth is involved. He really doesn’t mean any harm.”

            Cloud frowned and began to walk away.

            “I’m sorry,” Aralyn breathed. “I am. But…I can’t tell you anything.”

            Tifa placed her hand over Aralyn’s and squeezed reassuringly. “I understand. You’ve just recovered. I don’t want to dredge up bad memories. We really don’t even need to know. Ultimately, it isn’t our business anyway.” Her head was turned toward Cloud as she spoke, who was halfway up the stairs by now.

            “Just know that Sephiroth can’t hurt you here, all right? And if you ever need to talk, you’re not the only one here who’s suffered at his hands.”

            “Thank you, Tifa. I appreciate it.”

            “It’s all right. We all understand.”

            It was a lie. They didn’t understand. They thought they knew the whole story: she had crossed Sephiroth’s path by an unfortunate chance, and through some anomaly of fate, had been only wounded and not killed by the madman.

            But she knew Cloud suspected otherwise, and therein laid the danger.

            She supposed there could be no harm in them believing that her encounter had been due to chance, that her wounds had been fresh, that her survival was a miracle – certainly, there would be no harm to _her_.

~*~*~*~

            Cloud and Tifa were fighting upstairs, doubtlessly about her arrival. Aralyn felt terrible to have caused such a heated argument. She ate alone in the bar, silent and weighed down by guilt and other heavy emotions. When her plate was only half cleared, she set down her fork, opting to shuffle the ice in her glass with the end of her spoon instead.

            The sun had almost set when the two came back down. Tifa was smiling and Cloud was noticeably not.

            “I had better go,” Aralyn said as she stood, pushing her chair back in. “Thank you for everything—“

            “Oh, no, Aralyn! It’s so late, and you still must be exhausted from the ordeal,” Tifa said. “Stay the night here with us!”

            The image of the silver-haired remnant at the window flashed before her eyes. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—“

            “It’s no trouble! The room you stayed in is a spare.”

            “I don’t want to intrude—“

            “Aralyn,” Cloud said sharply. “Stay.”

            Tifa shot a glare at Cloud and he sighed and left. The woman approached Aralyn and took her hands earnestly.

            “I’m worried about you, Aralyn. It would be a great load off my mind if you stayed until I can be sure that you’re healed and back on your feet again…mentally and physically.”

            Aralyn stilled her protests and thought the offer over. She did owe these people, and she felt that debt deeply. However, though Tifa’s reasons might have been true concern, she had a feeling that Cloud had only consented because this would allow him to keep her under close watch.

            But it had been a long time since she had been with anyone else. Her life was mostly vacant of friends, and even more vacant of family…

            “If that’s what you want…I’ll stay. But…just for a little while.” 

~*~*~*~


	6. The Naming

_She met Professors Hojo and Gast for the first time that day. The latter arrived first, moving to her. “Glad to see you are up. I’m Professor Gast.” He held out his hand cordially and she timidly shook it. His grip was firm and confident, she noticed, and his voice was brisk, but not unkind. “And_ that _…is Hojo,” he continued. He leaned close to her ear, whispering so the other man wouldn’t hear. “Just between you and me, he’s a bit of a necessary evil. You’ll get used to him.” He winked kindly. “Our secret, all right?” She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she filed the advice away for a later time._

_The man he gestured to had his back turned, a slick and thin ponytail of black hair tracing his spine, stark against the white of his lab coat. He was bent over a clipboard, thin and bony hands furiously scribbling away. “Quit the idle chatter and do your job, Gast.”_

_Unlike Gast’s voice, Hojo’s was high and nasal, clearly accented with impatience and cruelty. When he spoke, he had neither looked up nor paused his writings. He did not acknowledge her or Sephiroth at all._

_Sephiroth sent murderous glares in Hojo’s direction. She was almost frightened by his fierce expression._

_“Do you like having a friend, Sephiroth?” Gast turned to the boy, who had remained faithfully at her side._

_Sephiroth didn’t answer, but looked to Gast with a worried expression on his face. “Don’t worry,” Gast mouthed in reply to the boy’s silent question. “I won’t let him.”_

_Gast unhooked a cloth band from the wall, wrapping it around her arm. Pressure began to build as the band inflated, and Gast’s gaze turned to a meter on the wall. Humming his approval after studying it for a matter of seconds, he removed the restraint and returned it. “Fit as a fiddle,” he said._

_Hojo turned around at this. His glasses were perched at the tip of his nose, and he pushed them up. The harsh light of the room caught the glass, and a wave of light enveloped the lenses for only a moment before revealing black, cruel and calculating eyes. Gast stepped aside to allow him to approach her; Sephiroth simultaneously moved closer._

_“Would you be kind enough to move, Sephiroth?” Hojo’s tone was anything but polite._

_Sephiroth’s eyes flashed, but he moved over a foot or so._

_Hojo seized her arm and she winced as she felt his cold and clammy skin. He smelled strongly of chemicals, mixed with that stale smell of nothingness that seemed to be predominant in this building. She didn’t understand why, but he took painstaking care in examining her arm, checking everything from her finger joints to the way her shoulder rotated. Something about the way he handled her told her that he would take no questions, and when she looked to Gast for help, he only shook his head and held up his hands in a clear gesture of defeat. Sephiroth’s tense and threatening gaze did not leave the doctor, and he followed every movement he made._

_He released her after a rather lengthy examination, turning again to the clipboard. “Very good. I think she’s ready. Now, Number 46, if you will come with me…”_

_“Aralyn.”_

_Hojo turned and looked at Sephiroth, disapproval clearly etched on his face. “What did you say?”_

_“Aralyn!”_

_“What in Gaia is that, boy?”_

_“Her! Her name is Aralyn. Not ‘Number 46’. Aralyn,” he insisted. His voice was strong, but youthful. Any anger or power that his words might have held was dimmed by this fact. All the same, he stared at Hojo and showed no sign of apology or repentance to his elder._

_“Aralyn.” Hojo said it slowly, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Amusing, Sephiroth, but I will call her what I will.”_

_The girl, or Aralyn, as she was now called, returned to Sephiroth. “Why Aralyn?” she whispered to him._

_“Because it’s pretty,” he said simply. “And it’s better than Number 46. If you don’t like it though—“_

_“No,” she breathed, blushing scarlet. “I like it. Thank you.”_

_Gast intervened at this point. “Come along, Aralyn.” He lifted the blankets from her body and helped her out of her bed. The tile on the floor numbed her bare feet, and she shivered._

_“I’ll get you some slippers, and more comfortable attire,” Gast promised. “It does get chilly in here.”_

_“Gast?”_

_Hojo waited at the door, holding it open in a clear indication that they should be leaving. Sephiroth’s timid voice, however, had made Gast turn around. “Yes, Sephiroth?”_

_“Can you promise me…?”_

_“Yes. Yes, I can.” Gast finished quickly, not wanting the last words to be spoken. “Her room will be next to yours, and you can wait for her there if you’d like.”_

_Hojo scoffed. “Next to him? I will not have this filthy girl contaminate my prize specimen. She may take the empty room on the fifth floor.”_

_“I’m terribly sorry, Hojo,” Gast said firmly, looking his fellow scientist in the eye. “But arrangements have been made. She is roomed next to Sephiroth.”_

_“The last thing he needs is a meddlesome girl.”_

_“As educated as you may be, Hojo, and as much as you study Sephiroth, there are still a lot of things about what he needs that you have not even tried to understand.”_

_The insult rang in the air. Hojo’s face showed no change, even his eyes remaining devoid of emotion. “There are places she must be,” Hojo insisted. He turned and briskly walked away. “Pre-Op in five minutes, Gast. See that she is there.”_

_Gast took Aralyn’s hand and gently led her. “Come along,” he said._

_Aralyn looked back at Sephiroth, who was still perched on her bed, staring at her with an unnamable emotion in his eyes. She waved her free hand, but he didn’t respond, still in his daze._

_It looked like he mouthed “I’m sorry,” as she left._

~*~*~*~


	7. A Small Favor

            Aralyn stayed a week, and, over time, it became harder and harder for even Cloud to be suspicious of her.

            She was up and about almost immediately, showing no signs of ever having been hurt. While at first she was timid in joining in activities with the rest of the group, she eventually was always down in the bar, doing miscellaneous chores, talking with the others, or playing with Marlene or Denzel.

            Other members of Avalanche came in to visit, and while Aralyn’s timid nature didn’t create an amazing first impression, it didn’t take long for everyone to warm up to her.

            She met Barret on her very first day. It had been easy for Aralyn to win the man over – all it took was one glimpse of Aralyn on the floor with Marlene, dolls in hand, with a huge grin on Marlene’s face, to convince him that Aralyn was the best thing that had ever happened to his daughter.

            Cid originally found nothing of note in the woman: she didn’t like his tea or laugh at his off-colored humor, and so he had simply assumed that the two had nothing to talk about. It was during his second visit that the conversation had turned to the topic that brought them together: flight. She was enthralled by the stories he told of his adventures in the skies, especially the story of how he had originally met Cloud and the others in a frantic escape from the Turks. She listened to him ramble about his passion for flying when no one else would, and laughed in all the right places. “You know, you’re all right,” he told her, and promised to take her for a ride in his new airship when it was done being repaired.

            Yuffie found little of interest in Aralyn until one of her materia-theft attempts had been thwarted. As Cid stormed through the Seventh Heaven, loudly cursing the ninja and searching every nook and cranny for her, Aralyn had remained silent, even though she had seen Yuffie climb into the dish cabinet. Ever since, the two women had a quiet admiration for one another, even if they did not do much together.

            But as the week progressed, everyone could see that Aralyn was not happy at the Seventh Heaven. She denied that anything was wrong, but she often stared out the window for long periods of time. Though she tried her hardest to appear content, it was a false cover for her restlessness. Much of the time, she was uneasy – and sometimes even fearful - for reasons that she wouldn’t reveal to anyone.

            It was during these times that Aralyn lingered near Vincent. The enigmatic man never asked her any questions, and she found solace in his silence. Over time, he became accustomed to her presence as well.

            It became commonplace for Aralyn to be at Vincent’s side. They seemed to share an unspoken bond in empathy. The two understood each other better than anyone else in Avalanche did. 

            Once, Tifa tried to confront Vincent about the cause of Aralyn’s depression. “You need to let her leave,” was all he said. “She can’t be at home here.”

~*~*~*~

            It was a hectic day. Customers flooded the Seventh Heaven, and Tifa’s head was reeling to service them all. Denzel, Marlene, and Aralyn helped where they could, but they were still severely shorthanded.

            The phone rang in the adjacent room. Tifa sighed in fatigue, wiped flour from her hands with a dishtowel, and headed to get it. Her greeting was cheerful, but all her replies after that were hesitant. “Strife Delivery Service, you name it, we deliver it. . .of course we can do that. Now? Uh, give us twenty minutes or so. All right. We’ll be there.”

            Tifa reentered, holding her hands out in defeat. “Another order.”

            “Let me take it,” Cloud offered quickly. “You’ve been working all day.”

            “Thanks, Cloud, but it’s almost closing time and things are winding down. You and the kids can handle things until then. Everyone will be arriving soon after that, and you’re the one they need to see.”

            “I could skip that,” he said sheepishly.

            “You’d be all too happy to, wouldn’t you?”

            Aralyn caught the hint and sprang on her opportunity. “Let me go! I know the city, and it’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”

            Tifa and Cloud exchanged looks. “You sure you’re all right?” Tifa asked.

            “I’m fine! I’ve been healed for a long time now.”

            “And we’ll go with her!” Marlene chirped as she grabbed the young boy’s hand. “Denzel and I. We’ll keep her safe!”

            Cloud grimaced, clearly not liking the idea. Tifa looked at him, holding up flour-dusted hands in defeat. “That would be a great help, Aralyn, if you’re certain it wouldn’t be a strain on you.”

            “It won’t,” she promised.

            “I’ll load the bike up, then.” Cloud rose from his seat, heading toward the back room. Tifa motioned them back, giving Aralyn a grateful smile as she passed by.

            On the way back Aralyn asked Cloud, “What is it that you’d love to miss, but can’t?”

            Cloud gave her a half smile. “Tifa’s idea. A birthday party.”

            “I didn’t know that! Happy birthday, then!” Aralyn said, making sure the children’s helmets were securely on before fastening her own. “Tifa’s right, you should stay here to celebrate.” She turned behind her, making sure that the cardboard box was safely strapped into place on the back of the bike.

            It was decided that Marlene would ride first, while Denzel and Aralyn walked beside her. The trip wasn’t far, and it would only take about an hour to ride there, deliver the package, and return.  Tifa assured them that there would be a party waiting for them when they got back.

            “Just be careful!” Tifa shouted as they continued to their destination.

            “We will!” Marlene replied. “It’s just around town!”

            The clock hit six just as Tifa and Cloud reentered. “One hour,” she muttered to herself. “They should be back by seven.”

~*~*~*~

            And then it was midnight.

            Tifa sat at a table with her head in her hands, unable to believe that neither the kids nor Aralyn had returned yet. The party continued, but it was forced, the news taking away any fun that might have been had. The air was thick, and everyone was noticeably conversing with Tifa only to distract her. Cloud, Barret and Cid had gone to search at about eight, but the one call she received from Cloud told her that they had scoured every possible route they might have taken. There was nothing. Nothing that could be attributed to Marlene, Denzel, or Aralyn was within miles of their intended destination.

            And what disturbed her most was the fact that the delivery had not been made; they hadn’t even made it there. The customer had called to complain to Tifa. “You said it would be here by now! What kind of a business are you running?”

            It was with extreme difficulty that Tifa had explained that the delivery had been intercepted. It took all she had to keep from losing her temper with the woman.

            Yuffie perched herself on the seat next to Tifa, casually putting her feet on the table. “Maybe they just got lost,” she offered.

            “And miss their target by more than a mile?” Vincent asked.

            “It’s a possibility!” Yuffie insisted. When Tifa wasn’t looking, she turned him. “Thanks a lot, Vincent,” she mouthed sarcastically.

            Vincent didn’t respond to this. It was clear what he thought had happened, though he didn’t voice it in consideration of Tifa. No one did, though it loomed over their thoughts like a stormy cloud.

            “I shouldn’t have let them go,” Tifa said quietly. “Not when… _he_ is back.”

            “Sephiroth’s probably got much nastier things to do than chase after---“

            A high, mechanical melody rang out through the room, making everyone jump in surprise. Vincent casually reached into his cloak, pulling out a cell phone and flipping it open. Tifa held her breath, knowing it was dark news; if it were otherwise, Cloud would have called her directly.

            “They found the bike,” he said after his short, muted conversation. “What was left of it.”

            Tifa opened her mouth to reply, but Yuffie voiced the words. “And the kids? Aralyn?”

            Vincent shook his head. “Nothing. He says they’ll keep looking.”

            Before anyone could say anything more, a tiny tap sounded on the door. Leaping to her feet, Tifa flew to answer it. Vincent and Yuffie heard a cry of relief before they could see what was happening. When they could, they found Denzel and Marlene, both encircled in Tifa’s arms. There was a nasty cut on Denzel’s cheek, Marlene’s dress was torn and she was frightened and pale, but both were present, and very much alive.

            “Aralyn?” Tifa asked. “What happened? Where is she?”

            Marlene shrank back, only kept from retreating further by Denzel’s grip on her wrist. Denzel swayed a little, lowering his head. “The three Sephiroth remnants,” he whispered. “They took her.”

~*~*~*~


	8. Bitter Betrayal

            Aralyn sat on the cold, metal floor, her hands bound around a pole that chilled her back, keeping her upright. A thick, cotton cloth had been tied around her mouth and she was similarly bound at the ankles. Her captors had even gone so far as to encircle her neck with rope tied around the pole so she couldn’t move her head without strangling herself.

            She could not have identified where she was in the thick darkness, even if she could move her head to examine her situation. The crescent moon shone through a hole in the ceiling, lighting her surroundings just enough for her to see that she was in some ruined building. Further details were lost to her.

            She didn’t need to see, however, to feel the presence of the three men who had taken her.

            _Her memory of her capture was blurred, as if she were viewing it through murky water. It had all happened so fast. They hadn’t been far from their destination; Marlene had been chattering innocently about something or another and Denzel had been keeping her from wandering too far. Aralyn had been the first to hear the quiet footsteps behind and in front of them._

_“Run,” Aralyn whispered. “Denzel, get Marlene out of here.”_

_“What is it? What do you see?”_

_“Run. Go. If I don’t come back, don’t come for me.”_

_“What’s going on, Aralyn?” Marlene asked, frightened._

_But the footsteps were closer. In desperation, Aralyn threw Denzel and Marlene to the side. “Run!” she ordered. Not a second later, the first shot had been fired._

_Denzel looked back, terrified to leave her at the mercy of their attackers. “GO!” she screamed one final time, and they finally obeyed._

_To her infinite relief, the men had not pursued the children. It was her they had wanted._

            The silver haired trio had not spoken to her as of yet, preferring to keep at a distance. All showed a peculiar interest in her, as if she were some rare artifact or a specimen to be studied. They handled her with something close to confused reverence, and it frightened her.

            Had _he_ sent them?

            The one with the long hair (she thought his name was Yazoo, though she wasn’t sure) was in front of her, and if she squinted hard enough, she could barely make out his tall form in the shadows. He had not moved since the other two had tied her up. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze nonetheless. Of the three, he had taken the most interest in her, watching her at all times from a safe distance.

            The other two were behind her, speaking in hushed tones. Something was said, and the remnant closest to her finally raised his head, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. “What are you going to do with her, Kadaj?” His voice was calm, frighteningly so. Shivers ran up her spine, causing her to sit up straighter and press her back firmly against the pole.

            “ _He_ said she should have died a long time ago.” The voice was silky, as his brother’s had been, and coldly disinterested. “He was going to finish her off himself, but…well,” he chuckled darkly, frightening Aralyn more than the silence ever had, “it wasn’t even worth his time.”

            Aralyn’s eyes widened.

            “So he asked you to help?” Yazoo asked, turning his haunting gaze back to Aralyn.

            “Let’s just say I’m performing an act of service.”

            Aralyn winced and drew in a sharp breath as cold metal brushed her cheek. “Hello, Aralyn,” Kadaj said in a playful voice. “How are you today?”

            Aralyn turned her head away. The ropes pressed against her neck, but she didn’t care if she was losing a little breath if it meant that she could get any amount of distance between the two of them. Kadaj laughed at her apparent fear. “Have you been eavesdropping? That’s not very nice…”

            “Kadaj, I don’t think—“

            “Yazoo,” Kadaj snapped, turning sharply to his brother. “Sephiroth wanted this. We’re just helping him along. He’s so busy with Mother’s plan that he doesn’t have time for _pest_ control.”

            Aralyn clenched her eyes shut. _He wanted this…?_ She started shaking, feeling tears rise to the surface. She started breathing deeper. She shouldn’t cry. But though it had been several years, she couldn’t deny the pain of this final betrayal.

            Kadaj’s hands swept under her eyes. “What’s this? _Tears_? After all these years, you haven’t come to expect this?” Mockingly, he brushed his thumbs over the trails left on her face. “Don’t you worry now, we’ll put you out of your misery soon enough.”

            The third remnant, the tallest one with the short hair, walked over, smirking in the darkness as he readied the weapon strapped to his forearm. “I want to play first.”

            Kadaj chuckled. “Sounds like fun, Loz.” The youngest remnant retreated a ways, sweeping his arm toward her as he left. “Be my guest.”

~*~*~*~


	9. Scientific Miscalculation

_When she awakened, she was on a steel table, her head in a brace and her ankles and wrists in steel cuffs, binding her firmly. A mask covered her mouth and nose, assisting her in her breathing, but the gas it gave her smelled funny and tickled her nose. An IV was in her arm; she could only tell by the feel of the rough medical tape._

_She groaned, reluctant to expose her eyes to the harsh light but anxious to see where she was. When she finally attempted, she was blinded not only by the light, but its reflection against silver machinery and mirrors. Her eyes watered and she clenched them tightly together._

_“Get her something for her eyes,” a feminine voice said. “She’s coming around.”_

_“Right.”_

_Something was slid over her face, and when she opened her eyes, she found that a dark film had been draped across them. She blinked, her eyes focusing to reveal the face of a nurse, half covered by a surgical mask._

_The nurse’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Hey there,” she said warmly. “Is that better?”_

_She wanted to nod, but her entire head was surrounded by the brace. She had to speak if she wanted to communicate. “Yeah,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had just woken up after a long night’s sleep. “Where?”_

_“The operating room,” the nurse answered. She must have looked alarmed because the nurse smiled and gave her hand a pat. “But don’t worry, it’s over. You’re all done.”_

_“What’s done?” she still was only half coherent, and she had a feeling that the funny smelling gas wasn’t meant to help that._

_“Hey, I need to test you a little, is that okay? It shouldn’t hurt.”_

_Aralyn knew that the nurse was avoiding the question, but she wasn’t feeling like putting the effort into questioning further. “Is Sephiroth here?”_

_“Would you like to see him?”_

_“Yes, please,” Aralyn said softly._

_The woman sitting above her addressed another nurse who had wheeled a cart over to her side. “Joyce, get Sephiroth. Chances are he’s in his quarters.”_

_“He shouldn’t be in here!” the other replied. “She shouldn’t even be conscious in here!”_

_“Sephiroth’s been in here more times than we have,” the nurse replied. “He won’t mind another visit as long as he’s not the one strapped to the table.”_

_The second nurse sighed in defeat and left._

_The metal band around her left wrist was removed. “Can you lift your arm, Aralyn?”_

_She tried, she honestly did, but her arm may as well have been carved out of lead for all the good her efforts did. “Well, try to at least wiggle your fingers,” the nurse encouraged, sounding a little worried._

_After minutes of frustrated attempts, Aralyn let herself go limp and accepted that she no longer had any control of her arm._

_“Oh dear,” the nurse said. “Hojo needs to see this…”_

_“What happened?” She struggled harder than ever against the head brace, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of her no longer usable arm. “What did you do to me?!”_

_“It’s all right,” she soothed. “We’ll fix it. Hojo will know what to do…”_

_“Aralyn!”_

_Sephiroth’s footsteps were rapid and soon his emerald eyes were peering up at her, the bottom half of his face blocked by the table. “Are you okay, Aralyn? What did they do to you?” His voice was quick and frantic._

_“Sephiroth, you’ll have to leave. We’re going to have to get Hojo to fix her arm.” The nurse put her hands on his shoulders and tried to guide him away, but he would have none of that. He flung her hands off his shoulders._

_“No! Don’t get Hojo! Let me get Gast!”_

_“Sephiroth, don’t be silly. I know Gast is your favorite but this isn’t his specialty. Joyce, will you go and get Professor Hojo?”_

_“No!” Sephiroth shrieked, his voice cracking and the blood rushing from his already pale face. “No! He’ll make it worse! She’s fine,” he insisted. Quickly and decisively he shimmied up the table, ripping the gas mask from her face. He placed a hand over her mouth to ensure that she breathed properly before tossing the mask aside. “See? She’s just fine!” He then quickly began to unwrap the medical tape, pulling the needle of the IV free of her arm._

_“Sephiroth.” Only that voice could quench Sephiroth’s fire. The boy stopped abruptly, his hands frozen in the middle of his next mission, which had been attacking her restraints._

_“Sephiroth, get down,” Hojo said._

_Sephiroth seemed to compose himself, and he sat up straighter. “No.” But the word was whispered, and the color had not returned to his cheeks._

_“Sephiroth, go, please,” Aralyn pleaded. “He’ll make you.”_

_“No. I won’t leave.” There was a fire in his eyes that Aralyn hadn’t seen before. “He’ll do to you what he did to me. I won’t let that happen.”_

_The formidable doctor approached the boy, taking him roughly by his collar as if he were a disobedient puppy. “Learn your place, Sephiroth,” Hojo hissed, dropping him unceremoniously on his feet._

_The nurse picked up the mask and removed the film from Aralyn’s face. The girl clenched her eyes shut against the light as she felt the nurse press the mask firmly against her face. “Be at ease, Sephiroth.” The gas started flowing again and Aralyn felt her resistance dissolve into drowsiness._

_“Now get out of here before I change my mind,” Hojo snapped._

_Sephiroth turned and quickly moved, anxious to escape Hojo and spare Aralyn from whatever the implied alternative was._

_“Why was he…so…worried…?” But her lips were hard to move and her tongue was like cotton._

_Hojo scoffed, cutting off any reply the nurse might have given, and that was the last thing she heard before the darkness took her._

~*~*~*~


	10. Broken Oath

            Kadaj moved behind her and cut the ropes binding her, exposing her two raw wrists to the air. She shakily stood up, leaning against the pole, the metal slick and cold against her back. She closed her eyes, unsure of what to expect. Her breathing was rapid and her cramped muscles protested against the strain of standing.

            An electric shock was punched into her stomach before she opened her eyes. Aralyn doubled over, crying out in pain, her hair flying over her shoulders. She felt a warm liquid trickle down her shirt and paled. She wrapped her arms around her torso but it could not stop the flow.

            Aralyn heard Loz chuckle. Before she could compose herself again, she heard leather rustle. She looked back only briefly to see Loz’s boot swinging toward her, hitting her side with a loud, sharp crack. Aralyn was flung to the ground, gasping through the pain as she tried to find her breath. By the lingering stabbing sensation, she assumed that at least one of her ribs had been broken.

            “She’s not much fun, brother,” Loz complained. “She’s already down!”

            Kadaj walked over and addressed his brother. “She is weak, but I don’t think she’s done just yet.” He finished his malicious statement and stood above her, drawing his double-bladed katana and pointing it at her. “Get up,” he commanded harshly.

            Aralyn turned her head away, knowing that such a feat was impossible. The world was tilting as it was, and she was even lying down. Kadaj, however, seemed to think either that she was quite able or that it would be infinitely amusing to make her. Maybe it was a little of both. He swung his blade at her, making it clear that she would move or she would die.

            Somehow she managed to pull herself up by using her arms, which were relatively unharmed at the moment. She clung to the wall, trying not to move and breathing carefully so as not to aggravate her ribs. In a sudden lapse of strength, she swooned and fell into a sitting position. She clutched her side, all too aware that the front of her shirt was staining her arm with blood.

            “Do you like to dance, Aralyn?” Kadaj asked playfully. He flicked his katana at her legs, drawing a thin, shallow line of blood. Aralyn shirked away, trying in vain to escape.

            “Dance!” Kadaj giggled, flicking the blade at her again and again. The wounds were shallow, none of them serious on their own, but stung like a whip and came just as fast. She clumsily tried to evade him, though the world tilted and spun wildly and blotches of vibrant color were appearing before her eyes.

            She clung to the wall, as it was her only support. She twisted as she tried to escape the sword’s lashes, but wasn’t able to move much more than inches at a time. As a result, her attempts were futile and not one blow was successfully evaded. He took advantage of her current injury. Every move she made, instinctive or not, triggered the stabbing pain in her side. She was growing weaker through the loss of blood and she took comfort in the fact that they couldn’t possibly draw it out much longer. Maybe, if she was lucky, a move would puncture her lungs and then it would be over.

_Sephiroth, how could you…?_

            Kadaj’s laughter echoed through her mind as she weakened, fighting less and less as her strength failed her. Eventually she couldn’t hold to the wall any longer, and she collapsed to the ground, Kadaj leaping forward to wreak havoc on her body. Loz quickly joined him, sending numerous electric shocks through her. She tried to fight, and struggled as much as she could, but she was thwarted by the two men’s raw strength. Her voice was hoarse, worn out by her screams and unheeded pleas. Kadaj and Loz showed no compassion, and battered her body ceaselessly. Yazoo just stood by, paralyzed.

            Even worse than the physical agony were their eyes. Catlike, unnaturally and venomously green, they burned her with unhidden malice and frightening intensity. There was no distinguishable humanoid trait in those eyes; not the smallest iota of pity or remorse for what they were doing.

            Just like _his_ had been on that night beneath the wintry corpses of the trees.

            _Sephiroth_ …

            Blood spilled down her body, pooling thickly around her and staining the ground as it flowed away with her life. A word sprang to her lips, but she suppressed it, pushing it back into the shadows that were taking her. She had sworn a thousand oaths never to speak that word, even though she knew that if she fell asleep, she would never wake again. Her breaths came with increasing effort, slowing, slowing…

            She would never know how it came, or what the final restraint that had been broken was, but her defenses shattered. One moment they had been weakened, but intact, and the next they were gone. Throwing Kadaj’s arms from her, she opened her mouth and with a short lived flare of strength, broke the oaths she had sworn in a single, solitary second of weakness.

            “ _Sephiroth_!” she screamed with all of her strength. Yazoo unexpectedly turned to her, shock clearly etched in his expression. He looked at her, his head tilted slightly to one side, awaiting what her next move would be.

_“Sephiroth, you traitor!”_

            Yazoo’s mouth fell slightly agape, appalled that she would dare to call on the man who had done this to her. From the stoic and unreadable expression that followed, however, she knew that Yazoo did not expect his leader to pay the least amount of attention to her pleas.

            Loz and Kadaj had stopped at her outcry, giving her an opportunity to breathe again. She rolled onto her side, choking on the air that was suddenly overwhelmingly plentiful and tasting blood in her mouth.

This respite was not to last. Kadaj forcefully grabbed her chin and jerked her head so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. She whimpered as her rib was jostled, and Kadaj’s malevolent smile grew.

            “What did you expect, Aralyn?” He had drawn himself so close to her face that she could feel his warm breath. She closed her eyes, wanting to escape, but Kadaj would not allow this, and he shook her violently until she opened them again, gasping and fighting to both breathe and retain some semblance of dignity.

            “Did you think he would come? Did you think he would _save_ you?” he continued mockingly. He brought his blade to rest in the small of her neck, still stained with her own blood. She shivered at the cold touch of the metal. “When he’s the one that wanted this? I wish I could show you how happy he’ll be when I bring your body to him.” He slid the blade across her throat, not enough to break the skin, but more than ample to send her heart racing. He laughed maliciously. “You do want to make him smile now, don’t you?”

            Kadaj knew that at this point he had pushed her beyond her limits, and he raised the katana, holding it perpendicular to the ground above her heart. He placed the very tip on her chest, chuckling at her frightened reaction. Yazoo turned his back in anticipation of what was coming while Loz drew closer, holding her arms firmly to the ground with inhuman strength.

            “No,” she breathed, her voice dry and raspy. “No, I…didn’t expect him to…even hear me…”

            Kadaj smiled as he slowly lifted the blade, increasing the distance between her body and the tip but not altering the course it would inevitably follow. “Then maybe you’re not as foolish as I thought.”

            Kadaj raised the blade high above his head.

            Aralyn clenched her eyes shut and waited for the end. She could not hold back a scream of terror.

            “Enough.”

            The voice was neither loud nor forceful, and yet it rang with power and authority. There was no emotion in his voice; no joy, sorrow, anger, concern, or relief.

            Loz let go of her, pouting, and Kadaj shrank back and released her as if she had suddenly become hot to the touch. Aralyn opened her eyes, trying to focus through the tears that blurred her vision.

           There he was, his silhouette a strong, commanding shadow against the light of the crescent moon and stars. He stood tall and regal in black leather in the moonlight, his hip length, pale silver hair flowing and gleaming around him like a subtly rebellious river. Even from the distance and through the veil of moisture she could see the burning green orbs that contrasted so vividly with his pale skin. He advanced slowly, his pace neither quickening nor slowing as his eyes searched out hers.

            Aralyn could not stop the quivering that violently shook her body at the majestic and haunting angel. Though her voice was abused and her breath scarce and precious, she whispered in fear the name of the figure on whom she had called.

            “Sephiroth…”

~*~*~*~


	11. Human Experiments

Chapter Eleven: Human Experiments

_He was at her side when she awoke again, staring at her until he would take a small break to look at the clock in worry and impatience. She caught him in the latter phase, and began to sit to let him know she was up. He turned to her quickly as he registered her movement, his head whipping around rapidly, and then the anxiety and rage in his eyes subsided a little._

_“Are you…okay?” he asked timidly, putting a hand on the arm that had been operated on._

_It took a while for Aralyn’s brain to come to the point where she could remember what he was talking about. It came back all at once, overwhelming her with the memories of the lights and the inability to perform the most basic of tasks with her arm. She closed her eyes and took a breath, keeping the panic at bay by reminding herself that it was over and done._

_At Sephiroth’s hesitant request, Aralyn started by wiggling the tips of her fingers, and was rewarded with success. She worked her way up, testing her hand, then wrist, elbow, and shoulder. There was no pain or trouble accompanying the movements. “It’s like nothing happened,” she said, greatly relieved._

_“You can go ahead and think that,” Sephiroth muttered, turning away. His expression was troubled._

_“I’m all right, Sephiroth,” she assured him. She grinned and reached out toward his face, putting one hand on each side and pulling his cheeks into a very false, but very comical smile. “See?”_

_Sephiroth wasn’t smiling when she released him, and she stopped her laughter, feeling awkward at his silence. “It’s not all right,” he said, reaching out for her arm again. “You don’t know what they did to you.”_

_He turned her arm at an unusual angle, stopping when going any further would have hurt her. “You can’t see all of it,” he said. “But look. The scar…it runs all the way up your arm.”_

_She couldn’t see it fully; her head’s position wouldn’t allow it. She could, however, make out a pale red line, separated by even stitches of black thread, before it disappeared from her view._

_“So I have a scar. It will heal. Maybe not the whole way, but I’ll live with it. I don’t understand, Sephiroth. It’s over, and I’m fine.”_

_“You think Hojo just left it at that? Just a scar?” Sephiroth’s voice was harsh and angry, and Aralyn flattened against the wall, afraid at this new, furious demon. Sephiroth raised his head, his eyes burning, until he saw how Aralyn had shied away from him._

_“I have to go,” he muttered, his voice barely distinguishable. The fury had not subsided, though he was trying very hard to suppress it._

_“No, please, stay here! Stay with me!” Suddenly the thought of being alone was frightening, and even more daunting was the notion that Hojo might show up. “Don’t leave.”_

_“You don’t need me now,” he said as he slid from her bedside. “I just want to…I’ll be…I don’t know. Away. From here.”_

_“Then at least tell me what happened!” Aralyn said. “What did Hojo do to me, and what were you so scared of in the operating room? What did you think he’d do to me?”_

_Sephiroth’s wing twitched, the action reminding her of a shudder. The rest of his body was rigid and tense. “He didn’t sedate me,” he began in a dead tone of voice. “Not when he grafted in…” He trailed off, his wing fidgeting again, this time his hands shaking along with it, “…my wing.”_

_Aralyn was stunned into silence for a moment. “Sephiroth…”_

_“But I won’t let him do anything like that to you,” he said solemnly. “Whatever my power is, I promise I will use it to protect you. I swear it!” he repeated firmly._

_Aralyn could not speak. She stared at him for a long time, but he still remained with his back toward her, troubled but resolute. A machine attached to her arm whirred softly, and a noisy, clattering cart was wheeled along the hallway outside. People spoke just outside her door, and Sephiroth and Aralyn drew in sharp breaths as they recognized Hojo’s voice._

_When it became apparent that Hojo would not enter for a moment, he moved a pale hand to pull a few stray strands of silver hair out of his face. “I don’t know why,” he said, his voice calm and almost musing as he answered Aralyn’s unasked question. “I don’t know why I promised that. But you make me feel…” he stopped, shuffling his feet as he searched for a word, then sighing in defeat as nothing presented itself. “And I meant it.”_

_The door opened, and as they had feared, it was Hojo who entered, this time unaccompanied by Gast. He stopped when he saw the child half his size standing firmly in front of him and sighed, clearly irritated. “Sephiroth, you may leave now.”_

_“No.”_

_“If she’s all right, she’ll be in her quarters in an hour. You can see her then.” This was not meant as a condolence, but as an excuse to remove the boy from the premises. He flicked his hand at Sephiroth in dismissal._

_“No, I want to stay with her.”_

_“Then stay in that corner and don’t interfere,” Hojo sneered as he gestured to the furthest corner from Aralyn._

_“I’ll do what I want,” Sephiroth spat back in childish spite. “Just try to stop me!”_

_Hojo pushed his glasses up further with one bony finger, his face set in disapproval. He opened his mouth to reply to this challenge but a feminine voice interrupted. “Oh, let him stay. He’s too stubborn to be stopped; it’s in his blood.”_

_The woman that Aralyn recognized as Joyce walked into the room, smiling slyly at Hojo at her inside joke. Hojo did not find this amusing, but strode past Sephiroth without any attempts at removing him. Sephiroth’s green, catlike eyes followed every move the older man made._

_“Okay, Aralyn,” Joyce said as she gently grabbed her arm. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”_

~*~*~*~


	12. Rescue and Revival

Chapter Twelve: Rescue and Revival

            Sephiroth continued toward Aralyn, stopping at her side. He gazed at her intently, but his face, as always, betrayed no hint as to what he was thinking or what he was planning to do. Loz looked at him in anticipation, clearly expecting him to finish her off. Kadaj looked noticeably unnerved by his master’s arrival, and Yazoo, in sharp contrast, looked hopeful and relieved.

            Aralyn was afraid to look at him, but even more afraid to look away. She found that her memories of him were flawed; she had forgotten to some degree how powerful he was and how haunting his dead, unfeeling emerald eyes were, especially as he stared down at her from his full height. She fought hard against the shivers that ran up and down her spine.

            “Leave,” Sephiroth commanded his remnants. The three men quickly obeyed, but before they had gone too far he spoke again. “Yazoo.”

            The remnant stopped in reply to his commander’s voice.

            “You know your place,” Sephiroth continued. “Do not make me elaborate.”

            Yazoo scoffed quietly, pivoting and serenely following the others. He was going slower than the rest, no doubt meant to convey some sort of rebellion to Sephiroth. The general took no heed except for a brief flash of comprehension in his eyes.

            The place was silent except for Aralyn’s heavy breathing. Sephiroth raised his view, staring out at the horizon for an eternity before he knelt at her side. Silently, his face still blank, he reached for her arm, pulling up the nearly shredded sleeve and tracing one finger along the scar from her operation as a child, now so faded with time that it was invisible except for those who knew where to look. She shivered and tried to retract her arm, but he held fast.

            She rolled her head to the opposite side and gave up, knowing that she stood no chance against him even when she was at full strength. She closed her eyes and drifted, shamefully aware that tears were trickling from her eyes. Sephiroth neither moved nor spoke, showing no sign that he even cared for her fate.

            It was when she was just about to slip into her final sleep when Sephiroth finally reacted to her situation. He rolled her so that she lay on her back, then one hand connected with her shoulder, holding her firmly in place. Before she could realize what he was doing, he pressed his other hand firmly on where her broken ribs were.

            Aralyn’s eyes shot open, and she screamed, attempting to sit only to be held by Sephiroth’s inhuman strength to the ground. He hummed in something akin to satisfaction as the desired effect took place; the pain had caused her to gasp in a deep breath.

            “Are you going to breathe on your own?” Sephiroth asked. “Or must I continue?”

            “Why not?” Aralyn asked. Her voice was weak, but was tinged with bitterness and sorrow. “This is what you wanted…isn’t it?”

            Sephiroth didn’t reply, but pressed much harder on her ribs when her breathing slowed again.

            “Stop it!” Aralyn cried, fighting against him in vain. “You’ve done enough! Just leave me!”

            “You’ll die,” he stated dryly.

            “So let me! I don’t care.”

            Sephiroth sighed softly, as if he were dealing with a particularly troublesome child. “You lie. I know how you fear the darkness.” He removed his hands from her shoulder, but brought them back again as a multicolored glint caught his eye.

             “You still have it?” he asked. He seized the necklace in his hand and held fast to it. “It’s a child’s trinket, Aralyn. You really should grow up.” With that, he yanked on the chain, and the necklace broke. There were two charms now; he noticed because one of them snapped in his hand.

            Aralyn grabbed his hand before he could drop the necklace. “Maybe…I don’t…want to.”

            He shook his head, his long silver hair shimmering in the moonlight. “Keep your precious memories, then.” He dropped the broken necklace and the shard of the charm into her palm.

            He withdrew his hand, which was now streaked with Aralyn’s blood. He looked at it intently, his lips twitching as if the blood caused him some degree of pain. He then turned to her, seeming to analyze how deeply she was hurt for the first time.

            Handling her carefully, he slid one hand under her neck and put the other under her knees. He lifted her slowly, adjusting her so that she was held close against his body. When he had pulled himself up to full height, he began to take her away. He didn’t seem to notice that her blood was flowing freely, staining his clothes and hands in crimson. He didn’t turn his gaze to her once throughout their journey, staring stubbornly ahead instead.

            She tried to fight at first, but soon stopped due to fatigue. Though her face was set in an expression of anger, she couldn’t deny that she was, at long length, where she had dreamed of being every day and night of the past years: in his arms.

~*~*~*~


	13. First Home

Chapter Thirteen: First Home

            _Aralyn remained silent throughout the examination, letting them test her in whatever way they saw fit. She honestly had no idea what they were doing, and there was too much to think about to truly care._

_She didn’t look at Hojo because now she knew the truth. He was a monster._

_Perhaps that was too light a term. Sephiroth’s attitude towards the professor certainly told her that he thought the same. Unlike her, however, he had the courage to stare daggers at the Hojo’s back while she couldn’t even muster the will to meet his eyes._

_“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Joyce asked, putting something cold and metallic near her elbow._

_Aralyn shook her head._

_“Her body seems to have accepted it,” Joyce continued, speaking to Hojo. “How long do you think it will be before we can test?”_

_“Before the week is over,” the professor said casually. “She’s recovering at a remarkable rate, really. If all my subjects were like this I might get more experiments done instead of having such a line up…”_

_Sephiroth’s expression could have killed, and his tightly clenched fists were quivering with rage._

_After they had verified that she was quite all right, Joyce helped her to stand. Hojo exited and the nurse led her to a corner that could be blocked off by curtains. “Here,” she said as she offered Aralyn a pair of light pink sweatpants and a white, long-sleeved shirt. “It’s not much, but it’s better than that gown.”_

_Aralyn smiled in gratitude and retreated behind the curtain to change. She found a bin in the corner and threw the old clothes in, glad to be rid of it. When she emerged, she found Joyce looking over Sephiroth’s shoulder. The boy held the clipboard, and he ran his fingers along it as he scanned the information. His eyes were intent, and Aralyn soon realized why. Her name was on the back. He was getting to the bottom of what they were doing to her._

_“You can understand all this medical jargon?” Joyce asked, amazed. “And you’re how old?”_

_He didn’t reply, and handed the board back to her. “I’ll walk with her to her room.”_

_Joyce smiled and ruffled his hair. “I’m glad you have a friend, Sephiroth. You need the company.” She left without further comment._

_“Joyce doesn’t seem too bad,” Aralyn offered once she had left._

_“She isn’t,” Sephiroth replied. “Except when she’s mad at you she scolds you like a child.”_

_“It could be worse.”_

_Sephiroth laughed bitterly. “Yeah. If I get_ Hojo _mad he---”_

_Aralyn grimaced. Sephiroth realized he was making her uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject. “But some of the Turks are great! Like Jack! You can get away with doing anything to him! He makes some really great sounds when he’s startled too…”_

_The conversation continued on that much lighter note as the pair went down the hallway and into the elevator. After a short venture, they came to two doors, one marked with Sephiroth’s name and the other blank._

_“They said you could have that one,” he said, gesturing to the unmarked door. “It’s a great location, almost as good as mine! The vents go almost anywhere in the building, so it’s easy to get around. You get an open window, which I might have to make use of sometime because mine was barred after I got caught sneaking out.”_

_“Don’t they block your vents too?” she asked._

_“I haven’t been caught yet. Don’t you dare tell!” Aralyn chuckled and pressed a finger to her lips in an unspoken vow of secrecy. He nodded in approval._

_“I’ll teach you the routes sometime after you’re settled in.” He went to her door, grasping the silver knob that was at the level of his eyes._

_He leapt inside, Aralyn following timidly after. The room was bare, the harsh lighting making the white walls blinding. Like the offices and the labs, everything was either white or steel. A small bed was in the corner, dressed in white sheets, and at its foot was a small desk. There were closet doors opposite her bed that were adorned with only plain, dark knobs. The floor was the predictable, white and gray streaked tile. And, true to Sephiroth’s description, an unbarred window granted her a view of Midgar, though currently rough white curtains held the sunlight aloof._

_“It’s…nice,” Aralyn said halfheartedly, dismayed by the lack of color and the arrangement that reminded her of the rest of the building._

_Sephiroth frowned. “No it’s not. It’s horrible.” He shrugged as he pulled open the curtains. “Mine’s not much better, to be honest.”_

_“You miss the color too?”_

_“I tried coloring my walls with some crayons Joyce gave me for my birthday one year, but Hojo said I ruined the ‘professional atmosphere’ or something and made me clean it up.”_

_“Maybe we could sneak something in!” Aralyn suggested._

_Sephiroth smirked. “I like the way you think! And I know just the lady to ask, too.”_

_“Who is it?”_

_“Dr. Crescent. She’s really nice, but she’s always so sad when I show up. Hojo doesn’t like me seeing her though. I think it’s because she has a really soft spot for me.”_

_“Why’s she so sad?” Aralyn asked, climbing onto her bed and gesturing for Sephiroth to sit beside her._

_“I don’t know,” he said, climbing up beside her. “Gast said she wasn’t always like that.” His expression turned from pensive to scheming. “But I just have to find a time to talk to her when Hojo’s not around. She’ll get us some paints!”_

_Aralyn smiled and sighed contently. She really liked this unfamiliar side of Sephiroth. He was lighter, and a lot less tense, although still not as carefree as your average seven-year-old. “I’d like that,” she said. But she knew that even if it fell through, she could call this home if he was always just next door._

_That was the first day, and she prayed that it wasn’t the last, that Aralyn saw Sephiroth’s true smile._

~*~*~*~


	14. Forgotten Memoirs

Chapter Fourteen: Forgotten Memoirs

            Sephiroth stood outside the door of a small, rundown apartment, the lighting from the nearby lamppost illuminating only enough to see the black numbers painted on the door: 314B. Aralyn stirred and let out a quiet sigh, but just when he thought she would wake she fell still again.

            “You’re home,” he said.

            She didn’t reply. He hadn’t expected her to.

            Carefully balancing her weight on one arm, he slipped a hand into her pocket, making a small, satisfied noise when he grasped a key ring. There were only two keys, and, as luck would have it, the first slid effortlessly into the door. Once the lock was free, he kicked the door open, putting his other arm back around her to support her better.

            There was a star shaped night-light in the corner, revealing a small patch of faded turquoise and sea-green print wallpaper. He shook his head; she had always been terrified of the dark, a fear he found irrational and childish. From its small light, however, he could find the switch to turn on the main lights. After the three bare light bulbs dangling from the ceiling flickered twice and then on, he took a moment to examine the meager furniture and décor, then set the keys onto a small table that was the room’s centerpiece.

            The walls were a continuation of the blue and green pattern, though in some areas the wallpaper was peeling or even absent. Some of these holes were covered by framed paintings, but there were no photos. The floor was covered in thin, tan colored carpet. The furniture consisted of a small, old television propped up on a wood shelf and a couch in the corner next to the table he had placed the keys on. A ceramic vase was the centerpiece, but the flowers inside were wilting, some petals having fallen to the table. The window remained uncovered, letting the moonlight spill in.

            He moved the table to the side with one foot, clearing a space large enough for him to lay her comfortably in. He laid her down as gently as he could, but he couldn’t tell if she was comfortable; she had not moved. He put an ear near her mouth, listening for her breath. It came, but the intervals were random and the breaths were shallow and raspy. The pulse in her cold wrist was slowing.

            Sephiroth began to search for medical supplies, opening every cabinet in search of anything that might help. He found pots, pans, silverware, and simple ceramic dishes, but nothing that would stem the flow of blood or prevent further infection. At one point he came across a ten pack of rainbow colored adhesive bandages, but they were small, and wouldn’t even begin to cover the gashes across her body. He tossed them aside, frustrated by the meager and useless findings.

            When the kitchen yielded nothing, he moved to the bathroom. He found a towel and a few washrags, but even if they were torn into strips they wouldn’t be enough. He threw them over his shoulder so they wouldn’t hinder his hands, which continued to rummage through every drawer and cabinet he could find.

            He pulled back the small mirror, which served as a door for her medicine cabinet. There were small orange bottles filled with multicolored pills in surprising quantities, and they came in all colors, shapes, and sizes. Drawing his brows together, he grabbed one and examined the label. Not satisfied, he grabbed more, and found that they all had been prescribed by a doctor’s name that he did not recognize. Among them were at least three varieties of pain medication, and the rest were substances that even he didn’t recognize.

            _Experimental_ drugs, he realized, and very likely risky ones. He scoured the labels, but could find no clue as to what these medicines were, much less what they were prescribed to treat.

            Except for the lithium…

            Turning his mind back to the more immediate problem, he finished his search of the bathroom and turned to the last room in the house: Aralyn’s bedroom. Not even hesitating, he opened the door and stepped into her innermost sanctuary.

            Sephiroth was taken aback by the simplicity of the room. The sheets were plain and white, not even a bit of lace to elaborate. The curtains were white with a pattern of pale green vines, and on the table was a small table holding a clock and a picture.

            He didn’t need to see the photograph to know what it was. His frown turned to a dark scowl, and his eyes turned flat and dangerous. Surprised by the ferocity of the emotion, he pulled back and leaned against a wall, taking a moment to compose himself. Without looking at anything more than the vaguest of details, he laid the photo face down, and then withdrew his hand like the picture had branded him.

            He moved to the closet, looking for more bandage-worthy material. A black skirt caught his eye; it was long, meant to pool gently at the ankles, which meant that it would make a lot of bandages. He nodded in approval and added it to the towels. He snagged a few more shirts before he made his way to the back of the wardrobe. The last item, tucked away safely in the darkest corner, was very large and bulky, covered in plastic to preserve it. He raised an eyebrow. If this was worthy material, he wouldn’t need the towels or her clothes. He removed the hanger and ripped the plastic from the dress, dropping it in shock when the garment was revealed.

            It was a wedding dress.

            He scoffed and turned away, shutting the door angrily behind him. He ran to Aralyn and grabbed her wrist. True to his prediction, a simple gold wedding ring adorned her finger, the small diamonds painted ruby with her blood.

             He let out his breath slowly, making a harsh hissing sound. The band around his own finger felt hot and heavy. Looking for the last bit of evidence to prove himself wrong, he eased the ring off Aralyn’s finger, looking on the inside of the band.

            He wiped away the drops of blood to reveal the carving that he had feared he’d find.

            _My_ _Angel_.

            Something was tugging at his glove weakly but persistently. Aralyn, in perhaps her final reserves of energy, had gripped the fingers of his leather gloves and pulled until his pale hand was unveiled. He looked at her face, waiting to see her reaction.

            “You still…have yours,” she gasped, fingering his gold ring. “Do you…remember…or did you…forget it all?”

            Sephiroth did not answer, but pushed her back to the ground firmly. Fluidly ripping the towels with his bare hands, he began to work on her wounds.

            “You do…” She breathed, her eyes shining. “And you came…just like you promised….”

            Sephiroth acted as if he had not been affected. He was, however, relieved when she fell back into unconsciousness. He didn’t like the way she had looked at him, her eyes pleading with him endlessly.

            “Nothing has changed,” he said to her as he tied the makeshift bandage firmly around her bleeding side. “And you’re a fool if you expected it to.”

            When she was bound to a point where at least she wouldn’t bleed to death, he stood up and took the phone on the wall. There was no signal, and a cursory glance revealed a fray in the cord. It took him several minutes to figure out how to hold it so he could be allowed to dial.

            He called for an ambulance, and dealt with the woman on the phone briskly. She became only sweeter as he answered more and more curtly. “I know you must be upset, sir, but I need you to remain calm. I need some more information from you.”

            Sephiroth nearly dropped the phone. Upset. _No,_ he insisted to himself. _Worlds from it._

            “This has nothing to do with me. I am not upset. I gave you her name and address. That is all you need to know to send an ambulance.”

            “But sir, if you could stay on the line, I can tell you how to help her until we arrive---“

            “I have no such intentions. It is nothing to me if she lives or dies.”

            The woman on the other end of the line had no response. “Sir? I couldn’t understand you. Could you please not shout?”

            Sephiroth slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

            “ _Incapable_ ,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He looked back to Aralyn, who had fallen unconscious long ago. The medics would not get the job done, and a second presence was stirring in his mind. He had to hurry.

            Though it left the most bitter taste in his mouth, there was one more number that he dialed, remembering it from a poorly made advertisement he had seen on a street lamp.

            “Strife Delivery Service,” a woman’s voice answered. “You name it, we deliver it.”

            “314B Shire Gardens, Lockhart,” Sephiroth said. “Bring Strife if you must.”

            That was all the information he gave. With one last glance at Aralyn, he opened the door and disappeared into the night.

~*~*~*~


	15. Reparations

Chapter Fifteen: Reparations

            Somebody rapped a fist against Aralyn’s skull and she winced, stifling a cry when he hit a bruise. “Anybody home?” The voice was that of a grown male, but was playful, like a little boy’s dropped an octave.

            “Leave her alone, Reno.”

            “Rude, you’re no fun!” Her arm was lifted, inspected, and then dropped carelessly. She felt fingers prying her eyes open, and after the white light, she made out the image of a red haired man. “See? She’s up!”

            She was in a simply decorated room. She knew it was a hospital room, though great effort had been made to make the place feel less institutional. A table beside her held a beautiful arrangement of white and red roses, and the windows were draped in gauzy material embroidered with faded green vines that ran the height of the drapes. The walls, instead of being whitewashed, were a soft blue-gray. The bedding was soft, and the quilt was heavily stuffed. Her IV was even hidden behind the table.

            A darker skinned, bald, and muscular man came to her rescue, jerking him back by the thin red ponytail that hung down his back. In Reno’s attempts to get away, he flailed his arms back, striking Aralyn across one bandaged cheek in the process. She whimpered weakly at the sting.

            “Ah! Sorry! I meant to hit Rude. I’m sorry!” Reno pulled away, looking away and bashfully ruffling his hair with one hand.

            “You should go get the Boss.” Rude reminded him.

            Reno sighed and threw himself in the chair not far from Aralyn’s bed. He swung his feet over the armrest and let his head loll back. “I don’t feel like it. Rude, will you do me a favor?” When Rude didn’t move, he made a dismissing motion with a flick of his hand in the other’s direction. “Shoo, shoo. He said he wants to see her as soon as she’s up.”

            Rude stared coolly at him through dark glasses for a while, but then left to perform Reno’s errand.

            “Smart guy,” Reno smirked.

            “Boss?” Aralyn asked. She cleared her throat and repeated herself. “What does Tseng want with me?”

            “Nah. Different boss. Unless you’re dying to see the guy---I could _probably_ make that happen. I might even enjoy it.”

            Aralyn shifted in her bed. “No, no thanks. But who, then…?”

            Reno stood, stretched for many long seconds, and then pulled a beverage out of the small refrigerator in the corner. He looked at her and took a large swig of his drink, taking a long time to swallow. When he did, he still did not answer.

            “What about Cloud?” she asked.

            “Chocobo-head?” He pulled a second bottle from the refrigerator and tossed the first into the trash across the room. He flicked the top open with a quick rotation of his fingers and offered it to Aralyn, but she shook her only head. “He actually made it in record time with his whole crew. But he ain’t exactly a doctor, you see. So he called.”

            Aralyn made an odd face, and Reno quickly justified himself. “Not me personally! And stop giving me that look; I wasn’t your nurse.” He downed a large swig of the pinkish liquid in one gulp and then continued. “Cloud called Ru— er, my boss – who owed him a favor. He arranged it all.”

            The door was pushed open and a voice came from the other side. “I owed it not only to him, but to you, Aralyn.”

            Rufus Shinra walked into the room, tall and confident, with Rude right behind him. Aralyn sighed deeply and closed her eyes. Her brow was furrowed and her hands were balled into fists.

            “Told ya she wouldn’t be happy to see you, boss,” Reno said. “I’m outta here before it gets _really_ awkward.” With a wave of his hand, he left.

            “I can understand why you would be reluctant to speak with me, Aralyn,” Rufus said cautiously, not stepping aside as Reno tripped over him in the doorway as he exited. “But I think you will agree that there are things that need to be discussed between the two of us.”

            “How’d you know about the roses?” She asked blandly, reaching out one wired hand to stroke the velvet petals longingly.

            “Something Sephiroth once said to me, a very long time ago.”

            “Sep—I mean…what did he…!?” But she closed her mouth quickly, biting her bottom lip. She took a deep breath, and then continued. “Could we speak…in private?”

~*~*~*~


	16. Acceptance of an Enemy

Chapter Sixteen: Acceptance of an Enemy

            Rufus nodded, dismissing Rude by tilting his head slightly toward the door. When the door clicked behind the Turk, Aralyn waited for Rufus to speak. He didn’t, and Aralyn’s patience was the first to break.

            “So talk,” she whispered bitterly.

            “Let’s start with the basic formalities then. How have you been?”

            Aralyn stared at him. “Fine. Just fine.” She answered cautiously, wondering where he would go with it.

            “We could see every one of your ribs through your skin. Care to elaborate?”

            Aralyn started, wrapping her arms around her slim torso as if to hide herself. “I…times have been hard.”

            “Times have been hard, Aralyn?” He looked at her for a long time, waiting for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he elaborated for her.

            “There was nothing in your cabinet but half a loaf of stale bread and scarce remnants of peanut butter.”

            “I…”

            “There are holes in your roof that are plugged with rags, some of them appearing to have come from beautiful evening gowns. What was in your closet was clearly purchased years ago, and the only thing of value in there was a carefully preserved wedding dress.”

            “It’s none of your business!”

            “You only live in the apartment you do because the payments were made in full seven years ago. Since then, you have been largely unemployed. Not because you are lazy, or unintelligent, or unethical. To the contrary, you are the ideal worker. Why, then, would any company seeking a profit refuse the help of such a woman? Tell me, Aralyn.”

            “For the exact same reason that Shinra refused to employ me!” she shot back.

            “That is not true.”

            “Don’t you _dare_ try to tell me that!” she cried. “I came here first thing, and I was violently evicted. No one treated me worse than your company.”

Rufus was quiet for a long time. Aralyn did not apologize for her words, and refused to be the first to speak.

            “We may not be guiltless,” Rufus admitted. “But at the time, we thought it might offer you some kind of protection to keep you at a distance from this place.”

            “Even if I was to ignore the manner in which I was ‘kept at a distance’, it’s still a fancy way of saying that Sephiroth’s wife had— _has_ —no place here.” She shrugged the blankets up higher and drew her knees into her. “It’s the same thing everyone else said too.”

             “You would make this easier on yourself if you left him. I know it may hurt, Aralyn, but he’s not coming back. He has not been faithful to you, and you owe him nothing. Being married to him can only hurt you.”

            The thought was like a physical blow to Aralyn. “I…can’t,” she whispered. “Not…no…”

            “Then can I at least persuade you to sell the wedding dress?”

            “No!”

            “It would put food on the table for at least a month.”

            “Which would only postpone my death.”

            Rufus hesitated, but nodded solemnly. “I am aware of your medical condition. I am…sorry. It is hard to see you consuming far more medications than food.”

            “It shouldn’t be. You’re the one that let this happen to me in the first place, why should you regret it now?”

            “I am trying to make things right, Aralyn.”

            “I don’t want it. I won’t take it. I’ll turn away anything you offer and if you put it in my house I’ll give it away!”

            “I may be forced to sedate you and put you on an IV until you regain your strength.  I will do it. And if you still resist, I will wipe your memory and erase any thought you ever had of _him_.”

            Aralyn was silent, and she clenched her hands together to try to stop them from shaking. She knew that he would too, without a second thought. 

            “It’s tempting, isn’t it?” Rufus continued, thinking her silence was the contemplation of his offer. “All the pain and heartache he’s caused you…gone.”

            “That will not be necessary.”

            There had been no knock or prelude; a dark gunman let himself in, sweeping the door closed behind him.

            “Ah, Vincent Valentine,” Rufus greeted with a curt nod of his head. “Come to check on Aralyn?”

            “The others were worried. I got voted for intelligence duty this time.” Vincent strode foreword, throwing his cloak behind him with one gauntleted hand. Though his face was passive and his expression unwavering, Aralyn got the strange feeling that he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

            “She’s fine, as you can see. No permanent damage done, I should think.”

            “Hm.” Vincent tilted his head back only a little, his eyes flaring dangerously. “Then, seeing that she has recovered, I will escort her to her home.”

            “She and I have business to settle, Valentine.”

            “I have settled the matter of her employment,” Vincent stated simply.

            It was quiet for quite a long time.

            “You did what?” Aralyn asked uncertainly.

            “The pay will not be near what one of your level of education would deserve,” Vincent clarified. “But you will at least have enough to eat more than one meal a week.”

            “It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Aralyn argued.

            Vincent slightly arched one eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

            Aralyn thought it best to remain silent.

            “Is there anything else, Shinra?” Vincent asked Rufus.

            Rufus looked from Aralyn to Vincent. “No,” he said. “No, that is all. You may leave.”

            Aralyn sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and slowly raising herself to her feet. She wavered slightly, but soon regained balance. Vincent nodded his approval and beckoned for her to follow him. She did so, but stopped as she passed by Rufus. Etiquette told her that she owed him at least some sort of farewell, even though he frightened her.

            “Thank you,” she said quietly, bowing her head slightly in respect.

            Rufus frowned but nodded, holding the door open for her stiffly. She walked through quickly, running to keep up with Vincent’s long strides.

            It was much easier for the both of them to breathe once they had exited the Shinra building.

~*~*~*~


	17. Dr. Crescent's Secrets

Chapter Seventeen: Dr. Crescent’s Secrets

            _“Are you all right?”_

_Aralyn reached up, trying to feel her surroundings as her eyes were covered by something that blocked all of her vision. Metal…cold, unfeeling metal…and the suffocating smell of antiseptic._

_“Sephiroth!” she called, panicking as she considered the possibility that this was another experiment. “Sephiroth, help!”_

_“Hush,” a feminine voice soothed her, warm fingers gripping her hand and squeezing encouragingly. “I’m here, see? I won’t hurt you, I promise.”_

_“What are you going to do to me?” she was genuinely afraid now, her voice rising in pitch and her breathing becoming faster and shallower._

_“Nothing, honey. Oh no, stop shaking, it’s all right! You’re all done.”_

_“Lemme go!” She pleaded between the breaths that were coming through her lips in gasps._

_“Aralyn.” The voice was gentle and comforting, trying to lull her into serenity. “That’s your name, isn’t it? It’s a beautiful name.”_

_She was beginning to feel light headed, even though she was in the dark and lying down. Colored dots flickered on and off in the blackness._

_“Lucrecia, her heart rate---” The voice was different from the first woman’s._

_“Aralyn, you have to calm down,” Lucrecia coaxed._

_“No! Let me go!”_

_“What is this…?” the second asked._

_“Oh, Hojo you monster…” Lucrecia breathed. “Get me a sedative,” she muttered softly. “Quickly!”_

_“I don’t want to go back to sleep! Please, don’t make me!”_

_“Aralyn, I don’t have a choice. You could hurt yourself.” She sounded truly sorry too. “Thank you,” she said to another. A cold, wet swab was rubbed just below her shoulder. “Just a little pinch, okay? It will be over fast.”_

_True to her word, Lucrecia was very swift. When the needle was withdrawn, Lucrecia’s hands clasped hers. “There, you’re finished.”_

_“Dr. Crescent, Hojo wouldn’t approve…”_

_Lucrecia ignored the nurse. A soft tissue was dabbed where tears had leaked from her eyes._

_“You’re…Dr. Crescent?” Aralyn asked, her words slurred._

_“Yes,” the woman assured her._

_“Sephiroth said…you were nice. That you’d help us.”_

_“Oh…Sephiroth,” the woman sighed, and it sounded like she had begun to cry, though her voice was steady, if a little quieter. “How…how is he? What does he look like?”_

_Something wet fell on Aralyn’s cheek. Lucrecia was crying after all._

_“No,” Lucrecia stopped herself. “Tell me what it is you need.”_

_“Paints,” she whispered._

_“Paints?” Lucrecia asked. “Whatever for?”_

_But it was too dark, and her mind was working too slowly to reply._

~*~*~*~

            _“…Paranoia, maybe some type of post-traumatic shock, and that was the least of our problems. I had to sedate her it got so out of control.”_

_“Preposterous! Sephiroth handles the mako procedures every day, and he’s fine.”_

_“Aralyn is not Sephiroth, and this is not mako.”_

_“A derivative of mako then! Theoretically, it shouldn’t even make enough of a difference to matter. And Hojo said she’s got as much potential with it as Sephiroth does!”_

_“Hojo would say anything to push her into this. And as you just said yourself, this is all theoretical.”_

_“But the tests do indicate—“_

_“You can look at the numbers and figure all you want, or you can open your eyes and see the effects for yourself!”_

_“So you want to abort the experiment, Lucrecia? Even if we stop now, she’s so far in it might not make a difference—it might even make it worse!”_

_“Look at what it’s doing to her! You were in the operating room with me, you saw--!” Lucrecia stopped, cutting off the other’s reply before anything more could be said. “Aralyn? Are you awake?”_

_Aralyn dared to open her heavy eyes, knowing that she couldn’t feign sleep any longer. A woman with long, brown hair and kind eyes stood above her. The ID on the lanyard around her neck identified her as Dr. Crescent._

_“Hello,” Aralyn said._

_Lucrecia smiled. “Good to see you.” She turned to one of the assistants and motioned them away. Once they were gone, she looked at Aralyn for a long time. Her smile faded into a more melancholy expression. “Did you hear any of that?”_

_“Is there something wrong with me?” Aralyn asked, scared._

_Lucrecia sighed and shook her head. “Aralyn, Hojo has…miscalculated. I’m sure that he will refigure things. Don’t worry. He may be evil, but he won’t let anything happen to you.”_

_Aralyn frowned, not happy with the answer. “Can’t you tell me what he’s doing to me, at least?”_

_“I’m so sorry, Aralyn. I can’t.”_

_Aralyn looked around the room for papers that might indicate anything about her treatment. Sephiroth would know what to make of them, even if she didn’t. But the scientists had done their job well – there was no trace of anything she could use._

_“Aralyn, I need you to…do me a favor. It’s about…Sephiroth.”_

_“What is it?” she asked._

_“I don’t…” Lucrecia turned away, her shoulders were shaking. “I don’t know…what Hojo has told him about what… **who** he is. But I can be certain…it’s not the truth…”_

_Aralyn searched her memory. She couldn’t remember if Sephiroth had ever told her anything about his past._

_“Did you know his parents?” Aralyn prodded after several long seconds._

_“I thought I did.” It was no more than the barest whisper. “Now, I’m not so sure._

_“His mother,” she continued, “loved his father…no, no, she never loved him…but she married him all the same. The man was kind to her, and she thought he understood the things she wanted. In the end, I suppose she did it for her career, because she thought it was all she had left. He asked one thing of her…just one thing. She was a foolish woman to agree…but she did. Her son, Sephiroth, was born…tainted…because of her mistake.”_

_“Who was she? His mother I mean.”Aralyn asked._

_“Her name is of no importance. Someday…someday when he’s old enough to understand, someone will tell him.”_

_“Won’t she come back? Doesn’t she love him?”_

_Lucrecia raised her head, pausing for a long time. “His mother loves him more than anything, but she can’t return. And that is what I need you to do…deliver his mother’s final message to him.”_

_“Is she…dead?”_

_Lucrecia ignored the question. “Tell him that his mother is…”_

_“Dr. Crescent!” Aralyn blanched on instinct; the voice had been Hojo’s._

_“Right away, sir,” Lucrecia replied as she frantically gathered papers in her arms. She ran to the door, but before she opened it, she finished the message._

_“Tell him to find Vincent Valentine.”_

~*~*~*~


	18. Employment

Chapter Eighteen: Employment

             “Are you all right on your own, Aralyn?”

            Most of the walk had been spent in silence, but Vincent stopped now and again in consideration of her condition. Though she tried to hide it, the walk was very taxing on her. Vincent did not seem to mind a brief respite now and again. This, however, was the first time he’d spoken to her. She blushed as she realized how hard her breathing was.

            “I’m fine,” she said, gasping to catch her breath.

            “You don’t look fine.”

            “I’ll be all right,” she assured him. “Really.”

            He shook his head. “If you insist.”

            “Hey, Vincent,” she interjected into the silence that had followed.

            He didn’t vocally acknowledge that he’d heard her, but she knew he was listening.

            “Why did you really come?”

            He began walking faster, outpacing her so coldly that she feared she might have offended him in some way. She worked hard to keep up with him so that she could pick up any sign on how he had taken it. He gave none.

            “You’re not going to answer me, are you?”

            “No.”

            Another long, awkward silence. Vincent seemed unaffected by the haunting calls of the creatures of the night and the dead stillness when they paused their cries. Aralyn’s spine prickled, and she desperately tried to get him to talk.

            “Thank you. For finding me a job, I mean.”

            “Save your thanks for after your first day. As things turn out, this may be a curse.” His tone clearly implied that the subject was closed, and she inwardly sighed. It was hard to get any answers from him.

            It was dark now, the stars were bright and the moon absent from the sky. She could barely make out her apartment complex’s old sign. Many letters had burned out, and while most still shone neon green, the sign was far from reading “Shire Gardens”.

            “That’s where I live,” she pointed out.

            Vincent’s frown deepened significantly. “This deep in the slums? By yourself?”

            “It’s…not that bad. I mean, I’m away from the worst of it, at least.”

            They walked onward in silence, Aralyn instinctively drawing closer to her guard as the lighting got poorer. He looked at her strangely.

            “You don’t like the dark.” It was a statement.

            “No.”

            “Hmm.”

            No more conversation was carried on until she reached the front door. She reached into her pocket, fished out two keys and used one to open the door.

            “Can I get you something to drink? You did come all this way.”

            “No,” he said. Then, in an effort to soften the edge of his tone he added, “Thank you.”

            They stood on her doorstep for a moment, until Aralyn mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind for some time now. “Vincent, how much do you know…about me?”

            He knew what she was referring to. “Enough, but no details.”

            “What _exactly_ do you know?”

            “That you are Sephiroth’s wife.”

            “And that doesn’t…bother you at all?”

            “I see no reason why it should.”

            “How did you find out?”

            “I put the pieces together. It was a guess, but Rufus confirmed it for me.”

            “How much do Cloud and the others know?”

            “Nothing. They don’t even suspect. Your secret is safe, for now.” He turned, speaking to her without moving his head to look at her. “For your new job, be at Strife’s as soon as you can tomorrow. Do you need an escort?”

            “Oh no… _no_. Vincent, you _didn’t_ …!”

            “I have already told you: Cloud and the others are unaware of your affiliation with Sephiroth. I will work to keep it that way.”

            “No, I can’t take it…”

            “You _will_.” He whirred around to face her, cloak billowing, and used the full force of his crimson eyes to stare her down. “Or you will accept Rufus’s offer.”

            Aralyn slumped against the doorframe. “I can’t do it.”

            “Is it because Cloud is the one that killed Sephiroth?”

            She paused. “No…my Sephiroth was dead long before…”

            “Is there any other valid argument you wish to present, then?”

            Aralyn was quiet.

            Vincent nodded. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He took a few steps, then slowed and stopped.

            She didn’t wait for him to leave. She closed the door slowly, turning on the single light in the bathroom to serve as her nightlight. She found her way to her bed, then slid under the covers, buried her head in her pillow, and wept.

~*~*~*~


	19. Final Gift

Chapter Nineteen: Final Gift

            _She knew something was wrong when she woke up. She was in her room, tucked in the covers that provided a false sense of comfort. Shrugging them off, she slid off her bed. She went to the door that connected her and Sephiroth’s rooms, knocking loudly and calling for him to answer. There was no reply._

_She threw on a baggy shirt and a pair of pants, viciously attacking her hair with the brush and tying it up in a sloppy ponytail. Slipping on a pair of flat-footed shoes, she ran to the doors that led to the main hallway. She threw them open and ran so quickly that she tripped over a neat stack of metal cans._

_She turned back and examined the cans as she picked herself up. There were about ten of them, all labeled in bright paper. To the side was a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with rough cord._

_The cans were paints. All of them were bright, vibrant colors. Even the subtler tones of lavender and aquamarine were such a contrast to the blaring white that it was astounding. Aralyn fingered them gingerly, beaming at this miracle._

_The package held paintbrushes in all sizes. Some were large so as to facilitate the painting of entire walls, while others were small, so that finer details could be painted. Also included was a book that told how to paint textures and patterns. Aralyn stared at the pictures of the rooms with unique, lively walls for a long time. Stencils fell out of the book, all of them depicting small delights like flowers and vines that couldn’t be found near Shinra._

_“She really did it.” Aralyn recognized Sephiroth’s cool, composed voice immediately._

_“Isn’t it wonderful?” Aralyn cried. “There must be something we can do to thank her!”_

_“Aralyn.” She turned, looking at Sephiroth for the first time. His face was solemn and grave. “Dr. Crescent is dead.”_

_Aralyn’s eyes widened. Half of her instinct told her to laugh, but she knew that Sephiroth couldn’t possibly be joking, not with that expression on his face._

_“She killed herself,” Sephiroth finished. “Last night.”_

_“Why?” Aralyn breathed._

_But Sephiroth just shook his head. “I don’t know…”_

~*~*~*~


	20. First Day on the Job

Chapter Twenty: First Day on the Job

            When Vincent knocked on the door the following morning, Aralyn opened immediately. Her eyes were red, and he got the feeling that she hadn’t slept all night. She was dressed in a worn, dark red turtleneck with sleeves that covered not only her arms, but half of her hands as well. Her pants were long, with holes in the knees that had been patched with squares of fabric, and her boots went up to her knees, the heels half falling off. He noted how she had taken particular care to hide her body so thoroughly, and wondered if her scars had reappeared.

            Vincent was making a mental checklist for Aralyn: first, food; second, proper clothing.

            She walked out without a word, locking the door behind her and then pocketing the key. Vincent stepped ahead, leading the way to Seventh Heaven.

            He opened the door for her, but had to push her in all the same. She remained in the doorway, head lowered and hands clenched. Vincent went up to the front counter and rang a small silver bell that was mounted there. “Your new employee is here,” he called, not raising his voice from his normal dark and silent tone.

            Tifa walked in, wiping her hands on a small hand towel. “Good morning, Aralyn! Nice to have you here.”

            Aralyn murmured a greeting that wasn’t meant to be unkind, but sounded distant and forlorn anyway.

            “Look out below!”

            Vincent quickly sidestepped away from the stairs to make way for Yuffie, who was sliding down the handrail. He didn’t even flinch when the counter was shaken as she ungracefully hit the floor.

            “Ow!” she protested. “Vinnie, you couldn’t catch me?” She rubbed her head as she glared at the gunman.

            Vincent ascended the stairs without sparing her so much as a passing glance.

            “Big jerk!” Yuffie shot back, sticking out her tongue at him. Straightening her ruffled hair, she finally turned her gaze to Aralyn. “Oh! Hello! Did Vincent bring you here? I’m really sorry.”

            “Come on in, Aralyn!” Tifa beckoned, smiling but trying to hide it. “Don’t let those two bug you, they’re always at it.”

            Aralyn approached, coming up to the counter. “What do you need me to do?” she asked timidly.

            “Well, it’s slow now. Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you something to eat? It’s on the house!”

            “I couldn’t…” But before she could finish her weak protest, her stomach gave a very loud growl. She sighed, defeated. “I’d feel better if you took the cost out of my pay, though.”

            “Ah, you’ll live somehow.” Tifa winked and disappeared into the kitchen.

            Aralyn sat in a seat, fidgeting, with shifting eyes. Yuffie helped herself to two chairs, slouching in one and propping her feet on the other.

            “So, Vinnie didn’t shoot you,” she started. “He must like you.”

            Aralyn didn’t know how to reply to that. “He has a good heart,” she said, sincerely and yet timidly.

            Yuffie snorted. “ _Somewhere_ in there. You’d never guess by looking at him.”

            Tifa reemerged carrying a steaming plate of waffles, doused with berries, and a glass of orange juice. Aralyn murmured a shy thanks before partaking. A similar plate was laid before Yuffie, but it was gone before Aralyn got to get a good look at what she had been served.

            “You can work in the kitchen with me if you’d like, Aralyn,” Tifa offered. “I’d enjoy the company. None of the men folk will volunteer.”

            Aralyn nodded vigorously. “I’d love to! I used to cook a lot, maybe I can be of some use?”

            Tifa nodded. “Come on back whenever you’re ready.”

            Before long, Aralyn was dressed in a smart white apron with her hair tied back, away from her busy hands. Tifa had to slow her down on some occasions, as she worked at breakneck pace, breathing and sweating heavily from exertion.

            “It’s not a busy day, Aralyn, take it easy! We’ll have too much!”

            “Won’t it save?” Nonetheless, her hands began to slow.

            “Not very well,” Tifa said. “It’s cooking, not hauling cargo. Slow down, enjoy yourself.”

            “Oh…okay.” She looked at the abundance of dough she had made. “I’ve wasted all that…”

            “Did I hear that there’s lots of extra food?” Yuffie yelled from the front of the bar. She quickly ran, leaping over the counter to examine the fresh batch of pastries Aralyn had made. She breathed in deeply, savoring the sweet aroma. “We’ve got all of Avalanche to finish up this stuff and…hey Vin-vin! Come and try some of this!”

            “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Vincent,” Aralyn quickly added, trying to save him from Yuffie as much as possible. “But you’re welcome to them!”

            Vincent tilted his head back slightly as he descended the stairs, and Aralyn was pleased when he strode forward and took one of the smaller pastries. He ate it slowly, but from the expression on his normally stoic face she knew that he was pleasantly surprised.

            Yuffie was already on her fifth. “You weally ‘aught ta make ‘hese more often,” she said through a mouth full of food. Vincent sent her a disapproving look, but continued nibbling slowly on his treat.

            “These were my husband’s favorite,” she said ponderously as she began kneading another fraction of the mountain of dough. “Because they were so basic, he could take them when he traveled.” She turned her full attention to the dough, avoiding the inquisitive eyes. Vincent raised an eyebrow, examining the food with a new perspective.

            “You’re married?” Yuffie yelped.

            “Well…kind of. He…” her face fell from thoughtful to sorrowful. “Abandoned me.”

            “The jerk!” Yuffie spat, waving her pastry, sending flaky crumbs flying. “He gave up this?” Under Vincent’s glare, she heavily edited her statement. “I mean, I’m sure he had you in mind…he’s probably watching you right now! Yeah! His burning passion for you is eating away at him and soon he’ll come running back to sweep you off your feet and…”

            “Yuffie,” Vincent said darkly, his tone of voice threatening dire consequences.

            “I’m shutting up,” Yuffie squeaked, slinking away from the table.

            Vincent rested his gauntleted hand on Aralyn’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asked, quietly, so that Tifa wouldn’t hear.

            “Yeah,” she said a little too quickly, throwing too much strength into her kneading. “Yes, I’m fine.”

            The small bell on the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Vincent turned and left as Tifa went forward to be the waitress.

             He had known that she would have to suffer when he made her take this job, but he had convinced himself that it was worth it to see her properly fed again. With the day’s incident weighing on his mind, and seeing how the light in her eyes was all but extinguished for the rest of the day, he suddenly wasn’t so sure.        

~*~*~*~


	21. Mistaken for Another

Chapter Twenty-One: Mistaken for Another

            Aralyn was evicted from Seventh Heaven well after dark when Yuffie shoved her out the door. “You’ve done plenty,” she said. “Now get home!”

            Hugging her threadbare coat tighter to her to ward off the cold, she wandered the empty streets of Midgar and Edge alone. The path was icy from the snow that had been packed by so many footsteps, and more than once she found herself on her back looking up at the starry sky.

            “Gloria?” A man’s voice rang through the streets, eerily loud against the stark silence of the city. Aralyn paid no mind and continued.

            “Gloria? Gloria!”

            Aralyn decided to turn and found an unfamiliar man running toward her, arms outstretched like he recognized her. Following instinct born from living on the outskirts of the violent slums, she ran.

            The icy patches slowed her, however, and she slid on one that had evaded her sight and fell painfully to her knees. The man was fast and strong; there had been no hope for escape in the first place.

            The man grabbed her arms and turned her so that she faced him, looking at her for a moment. She examined him as well. He had black hair that fell past his ears, with rebellious pieces framing his face. His eyes were a startlingly light icy blue, and his features were sharp and striking. He held himself nobly, a princely aura of confidence and pride surrounding him.

            His lips broke out into a large smile. He gripped her under her shoulders and lifted her in the air, twirling her around once before placing her back on her feet. She was not released; instead, she was surrounded by his arms and crushed into his chest.

            “Gloria!” the man cried, slightly breathless from the chase. “Gloria, you’re here!”

            “I’m not…” she choked out as she struggled to get away.

            But he didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he cut off her futile protests by pulling her chin up. Just after their eyes had locked, he abruptly forced her into a fierce and passionate kiss.

            Aralyn’s heart stopped. When she could catch her breath again, which took several moments, she fought with all her strength, tearing her lips from his and screaming.

            The man recoiled as if he had been struck. “Gloria! What…what is the meaning of this?”

            “I’m sorry,” she gasped, clutching her heart, which felt as if it would burst from her chest. “You must have mistaken me for someone else. I’m not Gloria.”

            “No, Gloria,” his thumb traced her jaw line and she slapped it away. “You’re just confused, love, that’s all!”

            “My name’s _not_ Gloria!”

            But he still pulled her closer.

            “ _Don’t you dare!”_ Aralyn screamed.

            “Gloria…why do you resist me?”

            “My name is Aralyn!” she cried. “I’m married to someone else!”

            That must have struck a nerve as he leapt back, finally releasing her. He looked at her for the longest time. “You’re…married?” The last word was so quiet that the breeze stole it away, leaving Aralyn to read his lips.

            Aralyn held up her hand, the golden band glimmering in the faint lamplight. The man’s breath caught, shock and horror written plainly on his face.

            “Gl—ah,” he sighed. “Miss…Misses Aralyn.” His voice shook as he said the name, like it was from a foreign language. “Oh, Gloria…!”

            Aralyn turned and ran.

            She knew that he would follow, but her declaration had left him momentarily stunned. She needed that time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long. He followed every turn she made through the winding streets, calling both “Gloria” and “Aralyn” frantically.

            But when he took the final turn, he found himself staring straight into the shaft of a three-barreled gun.

~*~*~*~


	22. Questing for Answers

Chapter Twenty-Two: Questing for Answers

            _“She said to find someone named Vincent Valentine,” Aralyn said, finishing the story of her encounter with Dr. Crescent. “She seemed to think he would help.”_

_“I’ve heard that name,” Sephiroth mused. “Can’t say where, though.”_

_“Can we get into the records room or something?” Aralyn asked._

_Sephiroth frowned. “Not easily. That place has some of the tightest security in all of Shinra. If we use the vents, I can get us in there, but who’s to say what’s inside? Maybe if we swiped an ID from one of the nurses or something…”_

_“Will a nurse’s ID work?” Aralyn inquired. “I think we’ll need someone with higher authority, like a professor or something.”_

_“I think you’re right. Besides, it’s bound to have thumbprint identification or an eye scanner or…something. I can’t really get past something like that anyway.”_

_“Maybe if we just ask someone about Vincent?” Aralyn suggested. “If he worked here, someone has to know something!”_

_Sephiroth paused, then declared, “I’m going in through the vents. I’ll play it by ear.”_

_Aralyn stared at him, wondering why he would take such a daring risk._

_“You don’t have to come, Aralyn. I’ll understand.” He read the expression on her face and continued. “I just feel like this is something I need to do.”_

_“Are you always this reckless? Give it a few hours and we can think of something!”_

_“No. I just…I want to know what Lucrecia meant. We’re the only children here, but I’ve read books. I_ know _I’m not normal. I feel like she had the answers, and Vincent must too!”_

_Aralyn sighed and grabbed Sephiroth’s hands. “I’ll let you go, if you take me with you. If it means this much to you…I’ll do it.”_

_Sephiroth smiled and swept her up into a tight hug. “Thank you, Aralyn. You’re a real friend.”_

~*~*~*~

            _Two pairs of eyes peered from behind the bars of the grate: one a deep, ocean blue and the other a bright emerald. A pair of feet passed through their vision, causing Aralyn to stifle a surprised cry. The steps stopped, but when silence continued, the professor moved on none the wiser to the children’s presence._

_“Ready?” Sephiroth asked._

_“Just do it.”_

_Sephiroth nodded and deftly tampered with the screws that held the grate to the wall. He wormed his way out first, then offered his hand to Aralyn and eased her through the small opening. They leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing deeply and brushing the dust from the vents off their clothes. To Aralyn’s amusement, Sephiroth’s long, silver hair was flecked with the fuzzy gray specks too. She chuckled quietly and helped him get them off._

_“He’ll be in the ‘V’ section, whether it’s listed by first or last names,” Aralyn reminded him._

_“Right, let’s go.”_

_They had entered in the “R” section, so they didn’t have far to go. Sephiroth went first, his eyes constantly darting back and forth, scanning for potential traps. They ducked into the rows, keeping out of the main aisles as much as possible. With a sigh of relief, they located a drawer labeled “Vac-Ven”._

_“That’s the one,” Sephiroth muttered._

_The drawer was well above either of their reaches, so Sephiroth motioned for Aralyn to get on his shoulders. She silently complied, though her clumsiness caused Sephiroth a lot of discomfort. He remained silent and bore it, though he grimaced as her heels dug into his shoulders and as she grappled against the drawers for a hold, causing quite a clamor. She finally managed to regain her balance with his hands tightly gripping her ankles._

_Aralyn’s fingers pulled on the drawer and it slid out with a loud creaking sound that echoed throughout the room. Sephiroth and Aralyn waited anxiously for something to happen, but no one came._

_Breathing out the breath she had been holding, Aralyn flipped through the manila folders, letting out a jubilant whisper when she saw a folder labeled “Valentine, Vincent”._

_“Got it!” she whispered._

_“Drop it, you’ll need your hands to get down.”_

_Aralyn obeyed, letting go of the folder and watching as various colored papers spread across the floor. After another minute of intricate maneuverings to get her feet on the ground, the pair began to gather them. When it was all together, Sephiroth hugged the file to his body. “Let’s get out of here.”_

_But footsteps that weren’t their own were echoing through the main aisle. To their surprise, Professor Hojo strode to the aisle across from them, angrily murmuring words they couldn’t hear as he searched through the files. Sephiroth whispered something that sounded like a curse and handed the papers to Aralyn, who took them without a sound._

_The luck that had protected them for this long ran out as the professor turned his head. Eyes narrowing, he hissed, “Sephiroth?”_

_Sephiroth grabbed Aralyn’s hand and ran, turning as much as possible to try to shake him from their trail. However, it was a matter of seconds before a red light blinded them and a shrieking alarm nearly deafened them. Metal bars thicker than their arms suddenly blocked the door they had been headed for._

_“No. No…no!”_

~*~*~*~


	23. The Guardian

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Guardian

            When the man dared to look past the gun, he saw Aralyn in the grip of a tall, dark haired and crimson-eyed man. The hand that protectively shielded her was gauntleted, the long, golden claws resting harmlessly on her shoulder. The man’s tattered cape had been draped over her, hiding most of her body from his view.

            “What are you doing?” The gunman’s voice was dark and level, but he could feel the fury nonetheless.

            “I j-just wanted to talk to…”

            “Talk?” the man asked. “Aralyn’s reactions seem to suggest otherwise.” He cocked his gun and placed it to the center of the stranger’s forehead. “Care to revise your answer?”

            “Gloria has to come with me!” he ventured, slightly more boldly.

            “Your time would be better spent harassing this Gloria of which you speak,” the dark man countered.

            “ _That’s_ Gloria!” Verian insisted, pointing a finger at the shaking girl. “Gloria, it’s me, Verian! Don’t you remember?”

            Crimson eyes narrowed as he pulled Aralyn in closer, sensing the man’s rage. “You are gravely mistaken.”

            “No! She is _my_ Gloria!”

            “I don’t know or care what that means,” Vincent retorted. “But I _strongly_ suggest that you leave.”

            “Gloria, please listen to me…!”

            “How _dare_ you speak to her?” Vincent roared, striking Verian viciously with the barrel of his gun. As he fell back, Vincent readjusted his aim. “This is your last chance. Choose quickly, or I will choose for you!”

            The man sent one last imploring look at Aralyn, who was turned away. He stepped back cautiously, then pivoted and ran, disappearing from view, still holding his bleeding cheek.

~*~*~*~


	24. Hopes Lost

Chapter Twenty-Four: Hopes Lost

            _“What are you doing here, Sephiroth?” Hojo asked, glaring down at the small boy._

_Sephiroth returned his gaze, his hands clenched with rage and hatred. He did not say a single word._

_“And you brought Miss Aralyn along. How very…charming.” Aralyn shrank behind Sephiroth, seeking protection. She clenched the papers closer to her heart, hoping that Hojo had not seen them._

_“Let us go,” Sephiroth demanded, his voice small but his strong expression making up for it._

_“You have trespassed on private Shinra property, Sephiroth. I don’t know if you’ve been told this before, but you could be arrested for such a feat.”_

_“You wouldn’t do that,” Sephiroth retorted._

_“No, but I can take measures to dissuade you from ever trying it again.”_

_Sephiroth blanched, though his expression did not relax, nor did his form show any fear. “G-Go ahead,” the boy challenged._

_Hojo frowned deeply; Sephiroth clearly had not reacted like he thought he would. He turned his gaze to Aralyn. “And how about you? Do you have anything to say to me?”_

_“No!” she screamed, though her voice broke, revealing how afraid she truly was. Hojo smirked, his expression turning malicious._

_“No matter. I will find out the hard way then. Sephiroth, come with me.”_

_The boy’s eyes widened, but soon he relaxed. “Keep the file safe,” he whispered to Aralyn._

_Aralyn started to panic. “What…?”_

_“Hurry up, before I decide to take your little friend as well,” Hojo taunted. Sephiroth walked obediently forward, looking surprisingly frail._

_“No!” Aralyn screamed, suddenly grasping what was going to happen. “You can’t hurt him!”_

_“Do you have something to tell me, Aralyn?” Hojo repeated the question, grabbing Sephiroth’s hand to make quite clear what would happen if she refused._

_“Please, Aralyn…don’t! I can take it!”_

_But Aralyn ignored Sephiroth’s pleas and threw the folder at Hojo’s feet. Papers spilled out, and both children got a quick glance at a photo of a man with dark hair and blood red eyes. “There!” she cried._

_“At least one of you will submit to reason.” Satisfied, Hojo bent down and flipped through the papers. “Ah,” he sighed. “So this is what you were looking for. I’m disappointed, Sephiroth. You could have at least gone for something worthwhile.”_

_Sephiroth’s hands were clenched even harder, his nails causing rivulets of red running down his wrists while his knuckles, in stark contrast, were white._

_“If the fate of Mr. Valentine is of interest to either of you, content yourselves with knowing that he is dead,” Hojo continued. “It was Dr. Crescent that told you to seek him out, no? Foolish woman…should have known she wouldn’t have the spine to sacrifice what was necessary.”_

_Sephiroth listened in defeated silence. Aralyn looked away, trying to hide the hot tears that fell of their own accord. She desperately fought them with the edge of her sleeve, but they did not relent._

_“You may return to your rooms,” Hojo said, unbarring the doors. “I trust that no such mischief will happen again.”_

_Sephiroth roughly grabbed Aralyn’s wrist, dragging her along, ignoring her inability to keep up with him. He didn’t look at her the whole way, and released her like she had been poisonous when they reached her room._

_“Sephiroth, I’m sorry! I couldn’t let him…”_

_“Just leave me alone, Aralyn.”_

_“Sephiroth, please! I just---“_

_“I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”_

_Aralyn’s tears fell faster, and she sobbed so hard that her words were only just decipherable. Sephiroth never yelled –_ especially _at her._

_“Sephiroth I—!“_

_It happened before either of them knew it. In desperation, Aralyn made the mistake of grabbing Sephiroth’s arm, trying to get him to listen._

_It was the final straw._

_She saw his eyes flash, and then her world spun. She didn’t hear the clap that echoed through the empty halls as he struck her face with all the force of his anger – she didn’t even hear her own scream of fright._

_She did not try to move from where she had been thrown to the ground. She could only cup her bleeding cheek in shaking hands and look up to where Sephiroth stood above her, screaming._

_“I don’t want to see you ever again, Aralyn! You hear me! **Never!**_ _I hate you! **I hate you!** ” _

_He was crying too, but these were tears of rage. Because of her weakness, Sephiroth might never again find out the truth that Lucrecia had left for him._

_He would never know anything about his parents._

_Aralyn didn’t try to apologize anymore. She was scared of Sephiroth. She was hurt. The only thing she could think to do was run._

_She scampered to her feet and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her and then collapsing on her bed, wrestling with her heavy shame. Her cheek stung fiercely, but the hurt was small compared to what was in her heart._

_Aralyn curled into herself and sobbed, wishing she could disappear._

_The room next to her was oddly silent. So far as she could tell, Sephiroth did not speak or move the entire night._

_He never came to take back anything of what he had said or done, and the longer he stayed away, the less Aralyn blamed him, and the more anguished she felt._

_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” she sobbed right up until sleep finally claimed her several long hours later._

~*~*~*~


	25. Persistence

Chapter Twenty-Five: Persistence

            “I will be walking you home from now on.”

            Aralyn grimaced. “You don’t have to, Vincent.”

            “I don’t wish to find out what will happen if I don’t.”

            “I don’t suppose I can convince you I don’t need it?” Aralyn sighed at Vincent’s silence. “Thanks, then. That’s very…considerate.”

            “Hn.”

            Aralyn’s cheeks were still flushed. She thanked fate that Vincent had been there, but she hated being such a nuisance.

            “Why did you come?” Aralyn asked.

            Vincent glanced briefly at her before returning his gaze to the path before them. “You have a tendency to get into trouble.”

            “Oh. You noticed?”

            “It would be hard not to.” He was silent for a moment, but then continued. “I’m sorry about Yuffie. She didn’t mean any harm.”

            “I know.”

            “Tomorrow she will watch her tongue,” he promised. She saw the glint in Vincent’s eye and knew that Yuffie wouldn’t dare do that again. Not with him around.

            “Ah…okay.”

            They walked to Aralyn’s doorstep, and Vincent turned back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

            “Good evening to you too,” Aralyn said, weary in body and mind.

            He paused, taken aback by her courtesy, weighing her words, her connotations. “I am…not used to formal farewells. Forgive me.”

            Aralyn smiled tiredly, chuckling despite herself. Vincent’s expression was so clueless that it was comical. “You know I’m just playing around.”

            “…I see…” He relaxed into his normal, stoic stance.

            “How do you survive Yuffie?” she sighed, entering her home. “Good bye, until tomorrow.”

            Vincent walked away and Aralyn wondered if she had been a little hard on him. Shaking her head, she swiftly threw herself on her bed, falling asleep after a few moments of reminiscence of a crippled angel…

~*~*~*~

            “Aralyn?”

            The voice was quiet and timid. Aralyn straightened, standing from her bent position as she wiped the tables with a damp cloth. It was dark outside, and the door was propped half open. The face of a figure peered in, though she couldn’t make out and features from the way the light shaded his face.

            “Can I help you, sir?” she asked, walking to greet him at the door. “We’re closed now but I’m sure Tifa—“

            Aralyn stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the all too familiar figure before her.

            It was Verian.

            She backed up and opened her mouth to call for someone, but he rushed forward, explaining quickly. “Please, just let me speak with you! Five minutes, I swear!”

            “Get out,” she cried, dodging him when he reached for her. “I’ll give you one second before…”

            But Verian showed no signs of retreating. “Aralyn, listen to me. You have to come with me. You have no idea what you left behind! I don’t know why your mother sent you away from me, but whatever it is, please…”

            “What are you talking about?” Aralyn asked. “No. I don’t even want to know. Leave.”

            “Don’t do this Glo—Aralyn! Let me make it right! It’s been so long…please just give me a chance…!”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Aralyn cried, waving her arms in frustration. “I am not Gloria, for the last time, and you have the wrong person.”

            “No, Aralyn. You are the one I’ve been searching for these past twelve years…there can be no mistaking it.”

            “How is that? Isn’t it a big enough world for me to look like another girl?”

            “You _look_ nothing like the infant I had the pleasure of knowing…such is to be expected.”

            Aralyn opened her mouth to retort but stopped, dropping the rag. He knew something of her infancy, her parents…? Verian saw that he had her attention and rapidly continued.

            “You don’t remember, do you? That’s why you’re so cold toward me…”

            “I don’t tend to take kindly to men who appear out of nowhere and treat me so fondly!”

            “Aralyn just hear me out—“

            He reached toward her, seizing her arm and pulling her closer to him. She reacted instinctively, viciously backhanding him with her free hand and struggling with all her strength. Though he did have a red, hand-shaped mark on his cheek, he did not let go. In the middle of the fray, his hand slipped toward her body and her shirt sleeve slid up, revealing her pale forearm. Thin lines of healed scars networked across her arms like spider webs. She hurriedly covered them up again, but not fast enough to hide them from Verian.

            “That…that was your _husband_ , wasn’t it?” He snarled the word, his clenched fists shaking slightly. “He beats you, doesn’t he?”

            “N-no! He never laid a hand on me! Not…n-not until….”

            “Gloria,” he hissed, his anger clearly indicated that his anger was pointed elsewhere, but it frightened her nonetheless. “Tell me his name. I swear I will set things right.”

            “You’re mad to think…”

            “If you won’t tell me, then I will find him another way.” He turned to her and sighed deeply, reaching out and fingering her wedding ring. “You will understand. After he releases you, you will see…you will know what was to have been.”

            Verian turned and walked briskly out of Seventh Heaven. Aralyn sprinted after him, trying to explain and say something that would dissuade him, but he was too quick. He turned a sharp corner and when Aralyn followed, he was gone.

~*~*~*~


	26. Anger

Chapter Twenty-Six: Anger

            _It didn’t take much for Gast to see that something was very wrong with Sephiroth. The boy’s face was flushed and set in a scowl, and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. The nurse that had attended to him said that he was exceptionally on-edge and snappy._

_“Good morning, Sephiroth,” Gast said. “How are you today?”_

_Sephiroth muttered something, but Gast couldn’t hear it. The boy was kicking his legs into the air as they dangled from the edge of the examination table._

_Gast shook his head. If Sephiroth would not talk, then he would not talk._

_He picked up the clipboard and observed the notes the nurse had recorded. He frowned. “Abnormal behavior” was bound to draw Hojo’s attention. He turned back a page to find that yesterday’s notes had been similar. This did not sit well with him – whether the boy knew it or not, his sulking was only going to get him more time under Hojo’s scrutiny._

_“Sephiroth, has something happened?”_

_The boy started to bang his heels against the metal table. Gast took off his glasses, setting them on the table, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Then how would you like your mako today, Sephiroth?”_

            _“When are you going to **let me go**?” Sephiroth screamed. “I don’t want mako, I don’t want any more tests, and I **don’t want Aralyn**! When will you just **leave me alone**?”_

            _Gast listened calmly, not reacting even though he heard Sephiroth throw something. He waited silently until Sephiroth stilled._

_“You’ve had a fight with Aralyn,” Gast said softly, drawing his conclusion from how the girl’s name had been thrown in the list. “And you’re upset.”_

_“Just give me my mako and get it over with,” Sephiroth seethed. “I don’t want to talk to you.”_

            _“I see. As you wish, then.”_

_Normally Sephiroth received his mako by injection, but today Gast prepared an IV. He wanted Sephiroth where he was until he could sort this out with him._

_Sephiroth noticed the change in routine, and his face fell from anger to betrayal, but he did not protest. Gast felt bad prolonging the treatment – he knew how uncomfortable it was for Sephiroth – but it was becoming clear to him that he was incapable of handling this situation on his own, and the only way to get the stubborn boy to listen was to physically make him. Sephiroth waited until the IV was in and then curled up on his side on the table, his back toward Gast._

_The Professor looked at his watch. “I am going to leave for five minutes, during which time I want you to think about your misbehavior. When I come back, I expect you to be clear headed. You will apologize, and then you will clean up the mess. Am I understood?”_

_Sephiroth scoffed. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he murmured. Gast got the feeling that he wasn’t only talking about the broken beaker._

_“Am I understood, Sephiroth?”_

_Sephiroth curled tighter into himself. Gast did not press him further._

_Gast waited just outside the door of the examination room, listening, in case Sephiroth’s rage acted up again. At first, there were heavy thumps; it sounded like Sephiroth was hitting the wall. But as time went on the hits became softer and less frequent, and from then on it was oddly quiet. The ticking of the second hand of the clock was loud and clear._

_When Gast reentered, Sephiroth was sitting up, his hands fidgeting in his lap, his head down, silver hair obscuring his eyes and much of his expression._

            _“Sorry,” he muttered. “I won’t do it again.”_

_Gast waited for a moment for more, but nothing came._

_“Is there anything else you need to apologize for, Sephiroth?”_

_Sephiroth bowed his head deeper in shame. “I hit Aralyn.” His voice was so low that Gast had to think over the utterance for several seconds before he could understand it._

_“You hit Aralyn,” Gast repeated._

_“And I said…mean things to her. I said I hated her.”_

_“Why did you do that?”_

_“I was angry.”_

_“About what?”_

_“Because of her, I’ll never know anything about my parents!”_

_Gast was stunned by how quickly the boy’s rage had resurfaced, and even more surprised at how quickly the boy was able to choke it down. Sephiroth kicked his feet, looking intently at his toes._

_Gast set down the clipboard. Walking over to Sephiroth, he took the slender arm and slid the needle of the IV out, even though less than one quarter of the day’s dosage of mako had dripped into the boy’s veins._

_“Why do you say that, Sephiroth?” Gast asked._

_“No one will tell me anything. Not even you.”_

_Seconds ticked by, marked by the clock. “Sephiroth,” Gast started slowly. “I’ll make you a deal. First, you tell me everything that happened.”_

_Seething, venom eyes peered through the veil of his silver bangs. “In exchange for what?”_

_“You’ll just have to trust me.”_

_Sephiroth folded his arms and sulked for a moment, but then began to talk. He quietly told Gast everything that had happened; how Lucrecia had left Aralyn with a clue before she died, how they had gone to search the records, and how Aralyn had literally thrown the precious, hard-earned file at Hojo’s feet._

_Gast listened in silence, letting the boy speak his mind as he would, even when his voice rose and he slammed his fists into the table as he told him of what Aralyn had done._

_“And so you hit her.”_

_The fire went out of the boy as soon as Gast said those words. “Yes,” he admitted._

_“Do you feel guilty about the way you treated her?”_

_The boy blinked, thinking it over carefully._

_“I’m glad,” Gast said. “It means you don’t need me to tell you that the way you reacted was inappropriate.”_

_Sephiroth hung his head._

_“I know that it must have hurt, Sephiroth. You know how you feel. But look at it from her point of view. What do you think she saw?”_

            _Sephiroth thought for a moment. “Hojo scares her…makes her cry, even. So she was just trying to…protect me.” The final words were whispered. Gast let the silence ring, letting the boy take in what he had just said._

_“But I **told** her!” he started again, not angry this time, but desperate. “I told her I didn’t care. I would have let Hojo do **anything** to me for that file!”_

_“I think she knew that, Sephiroth. How has she been these past few days?”_

_Sephiroth blinked. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to see her.”_

            _“You haven’t seen her. So she’s been in her room. Alone. Is it too much of a stretch to say that she feels as badly about what she did as you do?”_

_Sephiroth thought long and hard about this, and the longer he did, the less angry and more melancholy his expression became._

_“Does that make you feel any better, knowing the way she feels?”_

_“No,” Sephiroth said. “It makes me feel worse.” He started kicking his legs again, slowly this time._

_“You owe her an apology,” Gast said._

_Sephiroth nodded his hanging head._

_Gast sighed deeply and sat down on the table beside the boy._

_“Sephiroth,” he said. “It’s time for my end of the deal.”_

_The boy looked up at him._

_“Your mother’s name is…Jenova.”_

~*~*~*~


	27. Seeking Penanace

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Seeking Penance

            _Sephiroth blinked once, twice, three times. His eyes went wide as he took it in. “My mother’s name is…Jenova.”_

_The boy had been yearning for this knowledge for all his life—a name, a face, **anything** —and his eyes filled with a light entirely different from the glow of the mako._

_Seeing Sephiroth so happy brought no solace to Gast. A lie, after all, was a lie, even if it was only meant to soothe the boy’s troubled spirit._

_“What…what was she like?” Sephiroth spoke breathlessly, and he was suddenly on his knees, bouncing with energy. “What did she look like? Where is she?”_

_“Sephiroth,” Gast said slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder to still the boy. “She is dead.”_

_Gast watched as a great sadness welled up in the boy. He knew that Sephiroth had dreamed of a day that he would be reunited with his mother—he sometimes even cried for her in the worst of his pain. “Oh,” was all he said. Then, later, “How…?”_

_“When she was pregnant with you, she became very sick. It was all she could do to bring you into this world. She passed on soon after.” Gast sighed, then chuckled sadly, ruffling the boy’s silver hair with one hand. “Your stubborn bangs,” he fingered the silver peaks, “are most certainly from her.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Does that make you happy to know it?”_

_“Yes,” he said. “What about…my dad?”_

_Gast was taken aback. He had fully expected Sephiroth to be satisfied with what little he said about his mother. He had not planned this far._

_“He was not a good man, Sephiroth. I should hope you will learn to be more like your mother than like him.”_

_“Why?”_

_Gast thought for a moment. He had told enough lies, he decided. He would give the boy the truth about his father._

_“He hurt your mother badly, Sephiroth. He did terrible things to her; things that no man should ever think of doing to his wife. He used her to further his own career and when she was no longer of any help to him, he abandoned her.”_

            _“Why would he do something as terrible as that?”_

_Gast wasn’t sure how to answer the broken-hearted boy’s question. “I don’t know, Sephiroth.”_

_“Why didn’t my mother leave him, if he hurt her so badly?”_

_“I don’t know that either, Sephiroth. People do funny things sometimes, things that don’t make any sense.”_

_Sephiroth slid his legs off the side of the table again. “I wish mother was here. I’d make her feel better. I’d make her happy. I’d do **anything** to make her happy!”_

_“I know you would, Sephiroth.”_

_Sephiroth drew his knees to his chest and was still for a moment. “So she won’t ever come back?”_

_Gast didn’t have the heart to lie about it, even if he had lied already. It would be beyond cruel to let him keep that hope. “I’m afraid not, Sephiroth.”_

_“You can’t…tell me anything else?”_

_“Maybe when you’re old enough to understand.” Gast put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If Hojo asks, you got all of your mako today. All right?”_

_He nodded, still distracted._

_“Do you want some time on your own to think this through?” Gast offered._

_“Yeah,” Sephiroth said. “I’d like that.”_

_“All right. I’ll leave you in here. Joyce will come in to finish up your examination in a little bit, all right?”_

_Gast shut the door on a very different Sephiroth than the one he had seen upon his entrance. The boy had moved to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about all he had heard – the truth he had sought all of his short life._

_Gast only regretted that his beloved truth was a lie._

~*~*~*~

            _“You seem much better today, Sephiroth. Was there some reason you acted so strangely yesterday?”_

_Sephiroth had handled Joyce’s questions with as few words as possible. To this last one, he only shrugged. Joyce shook her head and scribbled something on the clipboard. “Let me get your weight and height, Sephiroth.”_

_The boy went to the scales and began to adjust the weights before Joyce even got there. “Hey, Joyce, can I ask you something?”_

_“Sure.” She scribbled down his weight and started to get his height as he pressed his back to the wall._

_“Remember when you got in that really big fight with that guy you were always with?”_

_She had been marking his height on the wall next to the long vertical ruler, but the question jarred her, and she ended up drawing a slanted, sloppy line. Frustrated, she rubbed at the wall with the eraser. “How did you know about that?”_

_“I heard some of the nurses talking.”_

_“Huh. Well…that was…erm…my boyfriend and I…we had a fight about…the cat.”_

_“No, not that one! This one lasted for weeks. You cried for a long time. I remember because Hojo got really angry with you and called you a sniveling wench. Oh! Nurse Beth called it a ‘breakup’.”_

_“Oh for the love of Shiva---Sephiroth---!”_

            _Sephiroth frowned deeply. Joyce felt bad; the boy really didn’t know what he was talking about._

_“What did you want to know about it, Seph?”_

_“I was just wondering,” he said, “you went on to marry him, even after he made you so sad for so long.”_

_“I forgave him, Sephiroth. Everyone makes mistakes; you have to learn to let them go.”_

_“How do you get someone to forgive you?”_

_Joyce wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Sephiroth watched as she made faces in thought._

_“How did that guy make you forgive him?” he prodded._

_Joyce laughed. “It’s easier for guys. Girls love flowers and diamonds. I fell for it like a big sap.”_

_“Girls fall for flowers and diamonds?”_

_Joyce saw how deeply Sephiroth was thinking about it and decided to add a little. “Those things help, Sephiroth, but the most important thing was that he apologized, and he really meant it.”_

_“But if you didn’t **want** to apologize, you could use flowers and diamonds instead?”_

_Joyce shook her head. She doubted it was worth the effort to make him understand. “I guess it would be hard to go wrong.”_

_It wasn’t until the examination was over and Joyce had left the room that she put the pieces together about what was going on. She stopped in the middle of the hallway as it hit her what Sephiroth was scheming, and she wondered if she should tell someone._

_She eventually decided against it. Where was Sephiroth going to get flowers and diamonds, anyway? Surely it wouldn’t be a cause of any real trouble._

~*~*~*~


	28. Remnant's Warning

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Remnant’s Warning

            Yazoo hid in a shadowed corner, following Verian’s path very closely and moving without so much as a whisper of leather. Verian was oblivious to his follower, and continued onward.

             After a while, Yazoo began to tire of the ridiculously easy chase. Verian was pacing circles around the Seventh Heaven, shaking his head and sighing every so often. It was frightfully boring. Yazoo could follow the footsteps with his eyes closed; Verian wasn’t even trying to be silent.

Sighing, he decided the game had gone on long enough, and he drew his gun-blade, letting the weak breath of metal against its sheathe ring unhindered. “If you’re hoping to get a glimpse of her husband, you are looking in the wrong place,” Yazoo taunted.

            Verian turned, alarmed. “Who’s there?” he demanded. “Show yourself!”

            Yazoo smiled, enjoying the twist on the otherwise uneventful venture. “I don’t mean you any harm,” he said. “Yet, anyway.”

            Verian was taken aback by the stranger’s audacity, but not to the point where he would not seek out the silver man’s eyes with a scowl. “What are you doing here? The Seventh Heaven is closed.”

            “Yes,” Yazoo agreed. “Yes, it is. Then what might _you_ be doing here?”

            Verian frowned.

            Yazoo continued. “Not that you need to know, but I am simply following orders. It’s nothing personal, really.”

            “What do you mean by ‘orders’?”

            Yazoo grinned. “It is really very simple, you see. I was given an errand, and I wisely chose to complete it.”

            “I know what an order is!” Verian hissed, not at all amused by Yazoo’s dry humor. “Who sent you? What concern am I to you?”

            “You are associating yourself with Aralyn, and therefore, you are every bit my concern.”

            “I have the right to pursue whom I will.”

            “The right, perhaps. However, your doing so displays a great lack of both intelligence and morality.”

            “Who sent you?” Verian demanded again.

            Yazoo waited for several long moments, but then decided to give him an answer. “You know him…or have at least heard of him…as the man to which Aralyn is married.”

            To Yazoo’s great amusement, Verian’s eyes widened dramatically and he stumbled. The shock quickly turned to rage. “Give me a name.”

            “It would be unwise to give such information so freely. He wishes to remain in the shadows, and so I obey.”

            “Give me a name!” Verian cried, drawing a short knife and pointing it at his opponent, who only smiled.

            “I was told to avoid unnecessary casualties, but know this, Verian: should you continue to seek Aralyn out, I will have no choice but to intervene.”

            “She and I are bound by laws that one such as you cannot comprehend. I will not relent until she is mine!”

            “I have warned you,” Yazoo said calmly, oblivious to the outburst. “You make it seem as if you care for Aralyn’s safety, but I see through you. Even if it is your not your own best interests you are looking after, heed my advice: leave her to her fate.”

            Verian lunged, but his knife severed only thin air. Yazoo was gone.

~*~*~*~


	29. The Outside World

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Outside World

            _Sephiroth stopped at the threshold of the front entrance to the Shinra Electric Power Company, staring at the invisible line between the building he was chained to and the rest of the world. It felt so strange, going where he had so long been forbidden to go, and going there without scheming of any kind. He’d tried more times than he could count, but no matter what path he took (fire exits, elevators, the ventilation system, and the laundry chutes were only some of the ways he had tried), it was a long, long way from the science department to the exit, and the time it took to cross that distance was his very worst enemy._

_He prodded the dividing line with his toe, hesitant to cross it. It was too easy, and it made him nervous. What was the catch?_

_“Come along, Sephiroth,” Gast urged. “We don’t have much time.”_

_Sephiroth finally stepped through the doorway, and felt an almost physical difference immediately._

            I’m out…for the first time in my life…

_Gast took Sephiroth by the hand and led the stupefied boy through the streets of Midgar. He walked slowly, letting the boy’s keen eyes take in everything. The professor mentioned the names of simple things – shops, cars, the fountain, billboards – and patiently explained the function of each. Sephiroth’s scrutinizing gaze was shifting all over, in every direction except backwards._

_“There’s so many people,” the awed boy said._

            _“Midgar is a big city.”_

_Sephiroth ground to a halt as his eyes traveled upwards, to the sky. Gast let him linger motionless for a while and let the boy be swept up in the full grandeur of a sunset._

_“I didn’t know the sky turned so many colors,” Sephiroth said._

_“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”_

_“Is that where mother is? In the sky?”_

_Gast winced, not sure how to answer. He noticed that Sephiroth’s single wing was beginning to stir, as if awakening from its slumber. The professor knew he had to distract him if he was to keep the boy earth-bound. “The city takes on a different beauty at night. Loveless Avenue is lit up.”_

_Gast led Sephiroth around the long way; despite being pressed for time, this was an opportunity that meant the world to the boy. The professor eyed the silver collar around the boy’s neck and watched a tiny red light blink several times, sending messages back to Shinra to show the boy’s exact whereabouts. Sephiroth despised it, and even tugged on it a few times, but accepted on some level that this was the price to be paid for the trip._

_The fact that they had been allowed at all had been a miracle. Hojo was gone, and several of the lab technicians owed Gast some favors. When Sephiroth had come to him about leaving Shinra to “see diamonds and flowers”, Gast felt that it was high time the boy saw the city. They were given three hours, and it was only under the conditions that Sephiroth consent to wear the collar._

_“Try to ignore it,” Gast urged. “Look at the city instead.”_

_“I want to go inside now.” Sephiroth sounded a little queasy._

_Gast thought the request more than a little strange. Sephiroth had been inside all his life. He reasoned that the boy might be a little more than intimidated by the vastness of the city and even the chaos of everyday life outside the rigidly structured company._

_“We’re almost to the store. You can hold my hand, if it will make you feel better.”_

_Sephiroth crossed his arms tightly and continued ahead on his own._

_Stubborn child, Gast thought with a fond smile._

~*~*~*~

            _“This is the diamond store?” Sephiroth asked, looking at the lavish building._

_“Well, they sell more than diamonds. It’s a jewelry shop; they have all kinds of gemstones. You are not to touch **anything** , am I understood?”_

_Sephiroth hummed an affirmative but Gast wasn’t convinced that he’d even heard. “I want you to wait out here, Gast.”_

_“Whatever mischief you’re scheming, this is **not** the place to do it.”_

_“I’m not scheming!” Sephiroth insisted, his face red. “I just…wanna go in a shop alone. Like an adult. Okay?”_

_Gast held up his hands in defeat. “Fine,” he relented. But when the boy slipped inside he moved to the window to keep a close watch._

            _Sephiroth looked very out of place amid the finery. His hair was unkempt (he had resisted Gast’s attempts to tidy it), and he was still dressed in hospital slacks, though he had been allowed a pair of pants instead of his usual gown. Gast could tell that Sephiroth knew he was different; he moved timidly, and kept his head down. The boy came from an entirely different world than the workers did._

            _He wandered amid the cases for a while, looking very lost, until he found a woman’s ring that struck his eye. Grinning, he made his way up to the sales clerk, standing on tip-toe to slide a small bag with a few gil over the counter as he gestured excitedly to the ring that he liked._

_Gast’s heart broke for Sephiroth as the sales clerk laughed and dropped the money bag at the boy’s feet._

_He came out with his head drooping._

_“Sephiroth,” Gast tried. “Diamonds are expensive. If I had known you actually wanted to buy one, I could have told you that. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”_

_Sephiroth toyed with the pieces of money in his hands. From the looks of it, he had managed to scrape together about 50 gil._

_“Why did you want a diamond ring?” Gast asked._

_“For Aralyn,” he said simply. “To say sorry.”_

_“Gaia, child! What in the world gave you the idea that you needed diamonds to do that?”_

_“I asked Joyce and she said that girls fell for diamonds and flowers.”_

_Gast was utterly at a loss for how to respond to that._

_“You think this will buy me some flowers, at least?” Sephiroth asked._

_“Maybe a daisy or two,” Gast said. “But Sephiroth, flowers die quickly. Are you sure that’s exactly what you want?”_

_Sephiroth became angry. “What am I supposed to do, then? If I can’t get diamonds or flowers, how am I supposed to tell her that I’m really, really, **really** sorry?”_

_Gast waited for him to calm a bit. “You could do exactly that: tell her.”_

_Sephiroth made a face. “Yeah,” he conceded. “I know.”_

            _Gast knew that Sephiroth was trying the best way he knew how to make things right, and he felt bad that he worked so hard for so little money only to have his efforts put to waste._

_“Do you still want to pick out a small gift for her?”_

_Sephiroth nodded._

_“Let’s go to the supermarket. They have small toys and girl’s jewelry there. You should be able to get her something.”_

_“What about the flowers, though?” Sephiroth asked._

_“I have an idea, Seph. She’ll love it much better than a bouquet.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_Gast smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ve been around the block enough times to know how to apologize to a girl. Trust me on this one.”_

~*~*~*~


	30. Apologies

Chapter Thirty: Apologies

            _Aralyn awoke in the middle of the night, trembling from a nightmare that she couldn’t quite recall. No light had been left on, and the darkness pressed heavily on her. She lay very still, petrified into mute shock._

_There was a soft, quiet knock on the door. She threw her covers over her head, hiding from the imagined demon. “Aralyn!” Sephiroth whispered loudly through the door. “It’s just me!”_

_Aralyn didn’t move from under the covers, but calmed somewhat at the assurance that Sephiroth was near. She didn’t speak, however, afraid that he was still angry with her for what she had done in the records room._

_“Aralyn, hurry or we’ll miss it!” he knocked again, this time sounding more urgent._

_When she didn’t respond, he began to sound truly concerned. “Aralyn?”_

_“I-I can’t move, Sephiroth!” she breathed fearfully._

_He paused a moment and then understanding hit him. “You didn’t leave a light on, did you?”_

_“I…forgot?” she squeaked, ashamed. She had fallen asleep mid-afternoon and was just now waking up. She hadn’t thought she would sleep so long, and so hadn’t turned her nightlight on._

_She heard rapid footsteps padding away on the tile, which then grew louder as they returned. A bright light was shone through the small window in Aralyn’s door, freeing Aralyn’s paralyzed limbs._

_“Is that better?”_

_“Thank you,” she gasped, finally daring to venture out of her bed. “I’ll…I’ll be right out.”_

_She threw on a plain blue hospital gown printed with tiny white daisies and gold centers, as it was the first thing she could find. She fussed with her hair, tying it up with a white ribbon after messily braiding it. Timidly, she unlocked the door and stepped out._

_Sephiroth shyly handed her the flashlight, averting his eyes, his cheeks far more tinted than her own. “I’m sorry about the way I treated you,” he blurted out. “It was wrong of me, and I’m…”_

_“You were right to be mad,” Aralyn replied. “I ruined your one chance to find out the truth. I know what I’ve done, and I can understand if you never, ever want to talk to me again.”_

_“You were just trying to protect me,” he said, smiling tensely. “You…probably saved me from an awful lot of pain.”_

_Aralyn flushed red and bowed her head._

_“But tonight I’ll make it up to you!” Sephiroth said._

_Aralyn looked up, confused. “But the night-guards…!”_

_Sephiroth grabbed both her hands and pulled her along. “Come on, trust me!”_

_He led her through three or four hallways before stopping, knocking on another door and patiently waiting. An exhausted Professor Gast opened the door. His lab coat was on but his hair and expression clearly indicated that he had just gotten out of bed. “All right, Seph,” he said, yawning. “Let’s go.”_

_They followed the professor into an elevator, passing a guard on the way, but the man stood down after Gast flashed his ID. Guards became increasingly frequent as they exited the elevator after a lengthy ride, and security was tight enough to choke Aralyn. She began to both wonder and worry about exactly where she was being led._

_“Trust me,” Sephiroth whispered._

_Aralyn simply nodded, not daring to speak as they passed a particularly bulky guard with a stun baton that was thicker than she was._

_Their journey ended at a door that was heavily barred, a panel on the side requiring both a thumbprint and a retina scan to enter. Gast was the one to provide the data, informing the computer that the two children were guests. Clearance was granted and Sephiroth urged Aralyn to turn on her flashlight, leading their way with a single beam of light._

_Gast took the flashlight from her after a while and winked at the silver-haired boy, who grinned impishly in return. He slid behind Aralyn and put his hands over her eyes. “Almost there!” he said, his voice light and excited. At his gentle urging, Aralyn continued blindly forward, trusting him to guide her. This darkness did not frighten her; not when Sephiroth was leading her._

_The room in which she was led was noticeably more humid, and whirring fans barely kept the warmth down to a bearable level. “Sephiroth?” she asked warily. “Where are we?”_

_He laughed lightly in her ear. “The experimental botany laboratory. Look,” he breathed as he unveiled her eyes._

_Aralyn was hit with a wave of color, and she staggered back, shocked into an embarrassing state of imbalance that caused her to collapse backwards. Strong, small arms caught her, and soft, pale hands turned her head so she could see._

_Aralyn was standing in the middle of the largest arboretum in all of Gaia._

_All shades of green were the first to meet her eyes, ranging from pastel to a shade so dark and rich it looked like tinted ebony. Sizes varied as well, from buds the size of teardrops to leaves that could serve as small shelters. The ground was grassy in some areas, while others were paved by stepping-stones and surrounded by soft, warm moss. As she looked closer, she found more hidden treasures in the sea of green. Flowers from domestic daisies to tropical varieties that she had never seen before sparkled with the artificial dew that fell from sprinklers on the ceiling. Some trees, vines and bushes boasted fruits, looking so ripe and juicy that they seemed to waver, teetering precariously on the edge between clinging and falling._

_And, to her utmost delight, butterflies and birds of all colors flew freely, different wings further adding to the wide array of color._

_“Sephiroth…it’s beautiful!” She was crying now, overwhelmed by the beauty around her._

_“Are you all right?” he asked worriedly, brushing her tears away. He didn’t understand, and his face was contorted in confusion._

_“It’s wonderful! Like a dream!” she said._

_He smiled and grabbed her hand, leading her away from Gast to a pavilion of whitewashed wood. He sat her on a table in the center and pointed her view to the vines of roses that encircled the posts. Red and white had been bred to intermingle as they climbed ever higher, blotches of blood and snow on an emerald field._

_“I have something for you.”_

_Aralyn turned. “You didn’t have to…”_

_“Gast went into town, and I earned a little money doing miscellaneous jobs for some of the scientists. I saw it and I…I thought of you. Close your eyes, Aralyn.”_

_Aralyn did so, shivering as she felt his fingers around her neck, clasping a necklace around it. He smiled and held up the emblem for her to see._

_It was a simple rainbow; colors arched together and at each end were puffy clouds. Glitter had been painted over the whole emblem, making it glitter brighter than a diamond to her._

_“Thank you, Sephiroth,” she threw her arms around him, catching him off guard, but he soon relaxed and embraced her back._

_No gemstone could ever be more valuable than the childish necklace around her neck._

_“Gast, hurry!” Sephiroth called. “The eclipse!”_

_Gast shook his head, smiling. He flipped a switch and the panels that made up the ceiling began to fold back, revealing a dark, clear sky flecked with stars. As Sephiroth had predicted, the moon’s edge was already hidden, and Aralyn watched in wonder as the orb was concealed, then unveiled yet again._

_Aralyn didn’t know how long they stood there under the stars and amidst the fireflies that had come out of the darkness to light their night. One moment she was standing, and the next she was carried carefully by Gast, Sephiroth trailing along beside, smiling like she had never seen him before._

~*~*~*~


	31. Unexpected Siege

Chapter Thirty-One: Unexpected Siege

            Aralyn reentered the kitchen, balancing a gray tub filled with dirty dishes in one hand and clutching the other to her cheek. She smiled sheepishly at the confused look Tifa gave her. “I um…dropped a glass.”

            “On your cheek?” Tifa asked, taking the dishes and immersing them in warm, soapy water. “How did you manage that?”

            “It wasn’t the glass…and I need a dustpan.”

            Sighing, Tifa handed her a small hand broom and the dustpan, knowing that Aralyn wouldn’t let her take care of it. She was a voracious worker, and was stubborn to a fault to take care of herself, by herself. Often, she would work the full eight hours and then plead for overtime. Tifa had to draw the line at 10 p.m. and had insisted on paying her for the extra hours.

            “What were your other jobs like?” Yuffie asked, directing the question at Aralyn but speaking so Tifa wouldn’t turn and see her fist buried in the cookie jar.

            “I worked a lot longer than this, and for a lot less,” she said softly. “You are too generous with me.”

            “No, the others were just abusing you,” Tifa interrupted. “You couldn’t work for a big company or something?”

            “No one would take me, so I took any chance I got.”

            Aralyn turned and exited the kitchen, kneeling and gently gathering the sparkling shards of glass safely into the dustpan. Yuffie noticed that the man at whose feet she worked was shouting at her, scolding her harshly while she meekly apologized again and again. As her hands were occupied, Yuffie and Tifa could see that the wound she had clutched before was a bright red patch in the shape of a human hand.

            There was a strength in the way she held herself. Though humbly apologizing for an accident she probably hadn’t even caused, and though she was bent over to sweep the floor, she was composed, serene, and soft-spoken.

            “That woman has the patience of a saint,” Tifa sighed. “Yuffie, take over her job and send her back here to cook with me.”

            “Ooh! Can I throw something at him? Please?”

            “Aralyn would never forgive you. Just send her back.”

            “Meh,” Yuffie spat disgustedly, but she did as she was told.

            “I’m so sorry, Aralyn,” Tifa said as she pulled a clean towel from a drawer. She filled a bowl with cool water and soaked the rag, gently dabbing her cheek with it.

            “I’m fine, really.” Aralyn seemed uncomfortable with the attention, so she looked around for a job she could complete. “What do you need done?”

            “I want some company,” she said simply. “Yuffie’s no good for holding a conversation with and the stoic vampire,” she gestured to Vincent, who was passing through the kitchen, “is even worse.”

            Vincent ignored the comment and continued on his way. Aralyn couldn’t hold back a smile.

            “All right,” she said. “If that’s where you need me!”

            Aralyn’s hands flew with the goal of being occupied every second. Dishes were cleaned quickly, but thoroughly, and loaves of dough were set out and stored to be baked when the oven was free. She spoke only when Tifa started a conversation, but was not stubbornly silent or unpleasant to be around.

            More than once, Aralyn got a far away look in her eyes and Tifa heard her humming a melancholy tune that she recognized as a love ballad.

            “You still love him, don’t you?”

            Aralyn raised her head from cleaning a large soup pot, looking panicked. Tifa continued, eager to soothe her. “I mean, I don’t know who he is, and I promise I won’t investigate unless I have your consent, but when you look like that, I know you’re thinking of him.”

            Aralyn shrugged sadly and began to rub away at a grease stain. “Pathetic, isn’t it?” She smiled grimly, silently laughing at some morbid joke. “You’d think I’d want to part ways after he left me…especially after he left me like he did…” She fingered her wedding band. “Yes, I still love him. He was…he _is_ everything to me.”

            Tifa turned away after Aralyn remained silent for a while, but she thought she heard her whisper once more.

            “…Does that make me as bad as he is…?”

            “Hey, I need an order for five people! Two want barbeque wings and the others…”

            Yuffie brought them back to work, and the pair began working side by side for the next few hours, neither speaking more of their past conversation.

            It was always a relief when the customers trickled away gradually until the entire dining area was cleared, occupied only by close friends that had been allowed to stay. Aralyn baked the last of the dough, and as her final duty for the day, served her handiwork to all who lingered.

            Marlene and Denzel thundered down the stairs, enjoying their release from the upper floor and using their freedom to frolic around the nearly deserted restaurant. When their bursts of energy had been spent, Marlene pulled Aralyn over to a table where Cloud, Cid, Barret and Vincent were playing a game of cards. Marlene pushed her into a chair, and then snuggled into her lap so she couldn’t escape.

            Yuffie peered over Vincent’s shoulder, then compared whatever she had seen to Cid’s cards. When she opened her mouth, Cid promptly opened his. “Keep yer findings to yerself!”

            “Can I play?” Denzel asked, pulling up a chair beside Cloud. The blonde nodded and drew a small handful of cards and handed them to the boy. He gathered another deck and offered it to Aralyn.

            “You want in?” he asked.

            “What game?”

            “Just ‘go fish’. Cid and Barret get lethal with anything else.”

            “Spoons was the worst,” Denzel groaned, gesturing to Barret’s built in gun of an arm. “He nearly crushed Cloud’s hand into powder.”

            Aralyn chuckled, but Marlene answered for her as she prepared her polite refusal. “She doesn’t want to play because she knows she’d beat you hands down, and she wants to be a proper lady and preserve your dignity!”

            “Suit yourself,” Cid said, yelling out a very foul sounding insult as Vincent laid down a card. “Why you little…I’ll git ya for that one!”

            Vincent casually laid down another card, causing Cid to rise from his seat and pound his fists on the table. “That ain’t fair!”

            “You guys are boring,” Marlene complained. She turned her large, expressive eyes up to Aralyn. “Could you play dolls with me?”

            Aralyn smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair out of the girl’s eyes. “I’d love to.”

            Skipping, Marlene took Aralyn’s hand and pulled her up the stairs, already talking about the dolls that awaited them upstairs.

            The game continued, Cid sending ineffective glares at the ever-emotionless Vincent. Tifa sat down, not joining the game but enjoying the watching.

            After a minute of tense silence, Vincent calmly laid down another pair, causing Cid’s most explosive reaction yet. “HE CHEATED! HE’S GOT LASER VISION OR SOMETHIN’ CAUSE THERE AIN’T NO WAY…”

            A knock on the door to the Seventh Heaven stopped Cid’s outburst. Vincent was the first to react. Quickly, his three-barreled gun Cerberus was in his hand, his form tense and poised to react. “Vincent,” Yuffie complained. “It’s probably just a…”

            Verian peered in through the glass, paling as he met Vincent’s stare, but he did not retreat. Vincent frowned dangerously, opened the door, dragged the boy in and pinned him to the wall by his throat, using his clawed hand. Cerberus was pressed to his temple.

            “Hey, ain’t ya that kid that won’t stop chasing Aralyn?” Cid asked. “’Cause I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make him so mad before…”

            “I…came to talk…”

            “Aralyn will not speak with you,” Vincent said, not releasing his grip. Aralyn, who had been returning down the stairs with Marlene’s hand in hers stopped as she heard this. She faltered as she saw Verian, and when Vincent waved her away, she quickly gathered Marlene and retreated upstairs.

            “So…you won’t bargain?”

            “At least let the guy down,” Cloud urged. “He won’t be going anywhere, and he can speak more coherently when his life isn’t flashing before his eyes.”

            Vincent’s eyes narrowed to burning slits but he complied. “What do you want?” he demanded.

            “Can I just talk with her?” Verian pleaded. “Please, you can all stay here and watch but I need to…what was that?”

            Some turned, but Vincent’s eyes remained focused on Verian. “I’m serious!” he cried. “Someone was outside your window!”

            Tifa opened the window he had gestured to and searched to her left and right, then below her in the bushes and above her in the sky. “No one.”

            “It was that silver-haired man, I know it!”

            Cloud sat up straight, suddenly on edge.

            “Very funny,” Yuffie said. “None of those guys are stupid enough to come and attack while we’re all gathered here.”

            “Not attack! He’s after…”

            Vincent silenced him with a threatening wave of Cerberus. “Hold your tongue, boy.”

            “Tifa? Tifa!”

            Tifa stood, responding to Marlene’s voice. “Yes?” she asked, somewhat disturbed by the sudden tension in the air.

            “There was someone here and Aralyn…Aralyn…”

~*~*~*~


	32. Healing Hands, Harmful Intent

Chapter Thirty-Two: Healing Hands, Harmful Intent

            Cloud was up the stairs before Marlene had repeated Aralyn’s name the second time, alarmed by the child’s frightened voice. Vincent was a hair’s breadth behind, while everyone else was left to clamber up afterward.

            Even though Cloud had a head start, Vincent was the first to see what had happened. The window was broken, shards of glass littering the carpet like starlit knives, a free, chilling breeze left to permeate the room without hindrance. Marlene was crouched next to Aralyn, who was lying face down on the floor, her body quivering and her skin a deathly pale color.

            Vincent hurried and turned her over on her back. “Aralyn, who was it?”

            Aralyn shook her head, her eyes bright with fear as she lost her strength, her control over her body, and her consciousness.

            “He didn’t even come in!” Marlene said. “He just looked at her and…”

            “Which one was it?” Cloud asked.

            “Kadaj,” the girl replied. “I’m sure of it.”

            Tifa entered the room, wielding a first aid kit in one hand and a thick, sturdy wooden staff in the other. Verian momentarily burst through as well, but Cloud roughly pushed him back.

            “What happened?” Tifa demanded.

            “Aralyn was an experiment of Hojo’s when she was a child,” Vincent said slowly. “Something went wrong, and now, all these years later, it’s slowly killing her.”

            Tifa knelt beside Aralyn, pulled the quilt from the nearby bed, draped it over her, and slid a pillow under her head. Tifa placed the back of her hand on Aralyn’s forehead, withdrawing it quickly afterward and shaking her hand to cool it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked Vincent.

            Aralyn’s breathing was heavy and labored, beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks as tears flowed from her clenched eyes. Tifa searched through the small kit, but found nothing that could help. Biting her lip, Tifa settled for bringing a bowl of cool water and mopping the girl’s face. “There isn’t anything we can do?” Tifa asked pleadingly, looking to Vincent.

            Vincent looked to Aralyn sorrowfully, then turned his gaze back to Tifa and shook his head. “This is beyond anyone’s control.” It was said coldly, and stated as an unfeeling fact, but Tifa saw the flicker of fire in his eyes and knew that he wished he could say otherwise.

            Aralyn was choking now, gasping for air and clinging to Tifa for support. She tried to calm her, giving her words of strength and encouragement, but she was mostly at a loss as for what to say.

            Then Verian broke through, seizing Aralyn’s form from Tifa and gently adjusting her so she rested snugly in his arms. Vincent reacted as if to attack, but Tifa stayed his hand.

            “What have they done to you, my Gloria?” he asked, reaching into a pouch at his waist and pulling out a small, brown leather wrapped package. “Why did you leave when you knew you would only find pain?”

            From the wrappings he pulled a small white blossom that bloomed from a moss-green leaf. Using his free hand, he gently coaxed Aralyn’s lips to open, pressed the flower to her tongue, and watched carefully to ensure that she chewed and swallowed. She shook her head and tried to spit it out, her face contorting from the bitter taste, but Verian held her jaw firmly closed until she consumed it in defeat.

            Vincent took her from him the moment his work was done, laying her back under the quilt and keeping silent vigil as Tifa continued consoling her.

            Moments passed, the creeping seconds measured only by Aralyn’s infrequent breaths. At first it was worse. She shook with shivers even though she was burning and she no longer responded to anything they did. Vincent turned away, unable to watch any longer. Tifa held her close, waiting for the end to come…

            Aralyn finally fell back against the pillows, her body relaxed and a small, nervous smile adorning her lips. Her breathing slowly became more regular, and over the next hour, her fever broke. No one said a word as Vincent silently moved her to the bed, grabbing Verian by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out, Tifa following after.

            “She’s all right,” Tifa announced to everyone present.

            “No,” Vincent interrupted. “This will only delay her passing.”

            The room fell silent, any smiles that Tifa’s news had produced quickly wiped away by Vincent’s cold proclamation of the truth.

            “Can’t it be undone?” Yuffie asked.

            Vincent didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he turned to Verian. “You will stay. When she wakes, I will let you say what you want to her. You will have five minutes. I will be present.”

            Verian looked as if he didn’t know whether to be happy for the opportunity or frightened. “Very well,” he agreed.

            Vincent turned and left, not leaving any explanation as to where he was going or when he would be back. Truth be told, he didn’t have the answers himself.

 _Kadaj is the one that triggered it._ Vincent thought. _I wonder…_

~*~*~*~


	33. Never Enough Time

Chapter Thirty-Three: Never Enough Time

_“Sephiroth, open the door!”_

_Reno the Turk rammed his fist into the door repeatedly, holding a stack of papers the size of a large encyclopedia in the other arm and trying to balance it while continuing his attack on the door._

_“Nothing major,” Reno lied through his teeth, glancing at the papers again. “Just a little light reading and a few signatures!”_

_“Give up, Reno,” a man with black, spiked hair advised. “That is not how one calls on the great General Sephiroth.”_

_Reno turned, scoffing at the visitor. “And you could do any better, Zack? I’ve been here for forever and if I don’t get back soon Tseng will tan my hide!”_

_Zack smiled, shaking his head playfully. “Observe, and take good notes, because chances are you’ll be asked to do this again.”_

_Zack made quite a show of cracking his knuckles, and even added in a few breathing exercises and squats for emphasis. The redhead was not impressed, and met Zack’s smile with a stern face._

_Shrugging, Zack approached the door and knocked softly and politely. “Seph!” he called. “I’m coming in! You’ve been warned.” With that greeting, Zack grabbed the papers from Reno and kicked in the door, strolling in confidently while whistling a particularly annoying tune._

_Reno didn’t see what happened, but one moment Zack was in Sephiroth’s office and the next he was thrown flat against the wall, landing on his behind, disoriented. The door was slammed shut, and both heard the distinct sound of moving furniture; it seemed that Sephiroth had barricaded the door._

_“That was great,” Reno said, giving him a mock round of applause. “I especially enjoyed the ‘Seph’ part. I think he loved it.”_

_Frowning, Zack stood and approached the door. For a minute he seemed baffled, but then a mischievous smirk crept across his face._

_“General Sephiroth,” Zack tried again._

_There was no answer._

_“You see, we need you to look at some papers. I’d forge your signature for you, but the Turks would get on me for that. Come on, Seph, be a pal?”_

_When Sephiroth gave no reply, Zack grinned from ear to ear and employed his secret weapon. “…Or I might just have to disclose exactly what I saw in there to my good friend, Reno.”_

_With only a moment’s hesitation, the furniture was once again moved and the door thrown open. A gloved hand thrust itself from the small crack that Sephiroth allowed, which was not nearly enough space to see what it was he was hiding. Zack placed the papers in Sephiroth’s hand, at which time he quickly retracted and shut the door._

_“Thank you, Seph,” Zack called, still chuckling._

_Reno lifted his eyebrows. “Blackmail, huh? You managed to get some dirt on the General? Come on, spill the beans!”_

_“Are you kidding?” Zack laughed. “I can use this against him for the rest of his life! Oh, the fearsome General…who would have imagined!”_

_~*~*~*~_

_“The next Turk I see is going to get it,” Sephiroth hissed. “Can’t get five minutes of peace here!”_

_Aralyn approached him and laid a hand on his arm, clearly trying to hide the beginnings of a smile and laughter. “It’s just part of being important, I guess. They don’t mean to annoy you…they’re just doing their job.”_

_“Or maybe they are annoying me because it_ is _their job,” he replied. He laid the large tome of papers on his desk, sighing deeply. “And Zack had better keep his mouth shut.”_

_“Would it be so terrible if he didn’t? Why keep this a secret?” Aralyn asked. Sephiroth’s expression clearly indicated that she had asked a thousand times before and that the answer had not changed. “Would it really be that bad if people knew that you were seeing me? Is it a crime?”_

_Sephiroth shook his head. “Aralyn, I want this to be just between you and me.”_

_“Is it your pride?” she asked. “Are you afraid that the General would be seen with someone so undeserving and frail?”_

_“Aralyn don’t even talk like that…”_

_“Then what is it?” she cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation._

_Sephiroth wanted to give her an answer, but words would not come. He was fully aware that his logic was more than slightly convoluted; a conglomerate of half-reasons that even combined didn’t make a legitimate excuse, but he stuck to his decision nonetheless._

_Aralyn hung her head. “Well, I guess you don’t have time for lunch today,” she said, sounding sad and disappointed. She picked up the picnic basket she had brought and held it in her hands._

_Sephiroth sat back in his revolving chair and laid his head in his hands, looking exhausted and overwhelmed. “I’m so sorry, Aralyn. Truly I am. We’ll do it another day.”_

_“That’s what you said last time,” Aralyn whispered. “You could at least come up with some more creative ways of saying it.” She smiled grimly at the humor, then turned and walked slowly toward the door._

_Sephiroth stood and was in front of her in an instant, blocking her path. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly._

_Gone was the gangly and uncertain girl he had grown up with. The years had transformed her, and while she had never been ugly, the metamorphosis was like comparing a caterpillar to a butterfly. Her features were softer and more mature, fitting for a young woman instead of a little girl. Her hair fell to her waist, her rebellious bangs sometimes veiling parts of her heart-shaped face in shimmering gold. The one thing that hadn’t changed were her eyes. Sephiroth delved into them, taking comfort in their familiar warmth._

_He was not immune to change either. When once his wardrobe consisted only of hospital gowns, now he was dressed in black leather with metal pauldrons on his shoulders. He dwarfed her in size, standing more than a head taller, and was of a far stronger build. His hair had grown as well, and now it rested nearly at his knees, his peaked bangs that would not be flattened trimmed at his jaw. Aralyn told him that while his eyes had always been emerald in color, they seemed to shine more brightly than when they were younger. He attributed this to the mako to which he was daily subjected._

_“I want to see you again,” he said._

_“You don’t have the time, Sephiroth!” she said. “Every day, something new comes up.”_

_“Not next time. It will be me and you…no distractions. Name a place, I’ll take you anywhere in Gaia.”_

_“Oh, Sephiroth,” she sighed, allowing her head to rest on his desk. “You don’t need a girl right now. You’re a first class Soldier…the best that’s ever lived! Shinra needs you, and you have everything you could ever want!”_

_“You don’t like my position, do you?” he asked point-blank._

_Aralyn looked at him earnestly. “Are you happy here?”_

_He wasn’t positive of the answer, but it was certainly better than the labs, which was the only other life he had ever known. “Yes,” he answered, but hesitantly._

_“Then I am happy as well.”_

_Sephiroth frowned deeply as Aralyn stood. She placed the basket beside him. “Keep the lunch for when you’re hungry. I made pastries, and if you eat them quickly they’ll still be warm. I will wait for you to call. Anytime is good for me.”_

_She left after a quick, formal good-bye, leaving Sephiroth alone with several hundred forms to complete. He buried his head in his hands, fighting exhaustion for a moment before reaching for a pen and beginning his work._

_“Couldn’t be helped,” he murmured, but not even saying it aloud could convince him that it was true._

~*~*~*~


	34. History Forgotten

Chapter Thirty -Four: History Forgotten

            Aralyn was wary when she awoke to find Vincent staring at her. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she wriggled into a sitting position and stretched her arms in front of her. “Why am I here?” she asked as she saw that she was laid in Marlene’s bed.

            “Your sickness acted up,” Vincent said. “You don’t remember?”

            “Oh,” she said softly. “Then it wasn’t a dream…”

            “No. And there’s another…issue that needs dealing with.”

            Aralyn tilted her head to the side, confused.

            “We were about to lose you, but Verian stepped in. He gave you some kind of herb, and it broke your fever and allowed you to sleep. You…and all of us…are indebted to him.”

            “I take it he asked for something in return,” she said. “And I take it you don’t like it much.”

            “I don’t like it at all,” he clarified, his eyes darkening. “But it is comparatively little payment for what he’s done.”

            “All right, what is it?”

            “He wants to tell you of what he perceives to be your past before Shinra. I gave him five minutes, and I will be present so he doesn’t try anything.”

            Aralyn laid back against the pillow, sighing. “Do I want to hear this?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Well, it’s been agreed. Can he come now? I don’t want to wait in anticipation.”

            “Fair enough. I’ll go get him.”

            Vincent left, returning after only a minute with the young man in tow. Verian smiled at her, taking the liberty of helping himself to a chair at her bedside. “Good to see you up!” he said, taking her hands.

            Aralyn pulled her hands away, folding them neatly in her lap instead, making sure that her wedding ring was clearly visible. Verian’s smile faded, but he did not protest.

            “You’ve wasted ten seconds,” Vincent warned. “And don’t think I’m not counting.”

            “He doesn’t know how to take things lightly, does he?” Verian frowned. “Well, whatever.”

            “You better speak quickly then.”

            “You were born on the first day of spring in the village of Altair, which is far from here. Your mother’s name was Nadea, and she was a mage who specialized in the healing arts. Your father was Bryan, and he was very high up in the government. You were very anticipated, because your father was a strong ruler, and there were many who would have his bloodline continue to rule. He was very fair and compassionate…the people loved him very much.

            “Then, when you were only hours old, Bafisk invaded Altair without warning. The Altairians were a people of peace, and stood no chance against Bafisk’s army. There were few casualties, as the leaders saw the danger and quickly surrendered to protect the lives that might have been taken. The transition was peaceful, and the government leaders were allowed to live within the city. Still, you and your mother were required to stay within the walls of the capital building, while your father was under close guard at all hours. The new powers feared that the people would revolt because your parents were so dearly loved. They didn’t, for the sake of you and your mother.

            “Your name was Gloria Dawn, which was unusual because traditionally a girl child was only given one name until marriage.”

            Verian paused here, seeming hesitant at this part. “And then my father came to live in Altair as an embassy from Bafisk. I was three at the time.

            “My father introduced me to your mother then, and while I don’t remember the details, I was told that she seemed to take a great interest in me. To ensure the peace of our provinces and to further unite them…”

            He stopped abruptly, clearly trying to gauge how she would take this. Vincent cleared his throat, reminding him that his time was ebbing away.

            “You and I…were betrothed.”

            Aralyn stared at him.

            “I know that’s not how things are done here, and it seems strange to you, but it’s true. Within months, we were promised to each other. You were too small to know…your mother had to hold you during the ceremony because you couldn’t even walk yet.”

            Aralyn looked away, so Verian couldn’t see how she reacted to this. He continued. “And then your mother left with you when you were six and I was nine. I take it you made it to the Midgar border, but then your mother disappeared. I suspect it was fiends. Hojo found you then…and you grew up in Shinra, ignorant of all this.”

            He waited for some kind of sign from Aralyn. It came quickly. “So you expect me to marry you on the basis of a past I can’t recall?”

            “No…I…well…”

            Vincent interjected. “You have one minute, but if Aralyn is tired of your lies, I will remove you immediately.”

            “It can’t be the truth,” Aralyn said.

            “You doubt me?”

            “Do I _doubt_ you? Give me one reason why I should _believe_ you! This is _fantasy_ , and even if it wasn’t, you’re hiding something from me,” she accused. “I take it you are unmarried, and you’ve been waiting for me for all these years, correct? Why me? What makes me different from another princess or whatever you call them where you come from? You’ve conveniently left that bit out.”

            Verian didn’t answer, the tense silence confirming that there was something he was withholding.

            “You and I were promised to each other,” Verian insisted. “We are bound.”

            “Your laws hold no value here,” Aralyn insisted. “Even if I choose to believe you…I will not agree to this.”

            “You don’t have a choice…!” Verian burst out, but quickly checking his anger. “You _aren’t_ Aralyn…you _never_ were! You are Gloria Dawn, firstborn daughter of Nadea the Sage and Bryan the Emperor, and as such are bound by the same laws that bind me.”

            Vincent didn’t wait any longer. His face dark and furious, he seized his arm and threw Verian out the door, shutting and locking it behind him.

            “Think about it, Gloria,” Verian pleaded before his footsteps faded.

            “I shouldn’t have agreed to that,” Vincent said darkly, his anger not pointed at her. “He’s clearly mad.”

            “Do you believe it?” Aralyn asked.

            “It is not my place to say. All that matters is what you believe.”

            “I’ve always wanted to know about my past,” Aralyn said musingly. “It’s strange…I have to wonder if he knew my desire and was preying on it. If he did, how did he know me?” she shook her head. “No one knows me; I’m invisible. I need to be. If he thinks he’s telling the truth, then I have a madman after me.”

            “It is concerning, regardless of whether he’s telling the truth or not.” 

            Aralyn nodded in agreement. “Vincent, could I have a moment to myself?”

            Vincent nodded, stopping for a moment and bending down to pick something up that had been left by the door. “Verian left this.” He set it on her bedside table and then left, gently closing the door behind him.

            Aralyn cautiously opened the box. Inside was a heart shaped locket made of gold and carved with vines. Tiny flowers of rubies and sapphires bloomed from the vine, surrounded by emerald leaflets. Inside were two pictures, both in sepia ink, and looking as if they had been half burned at some point. One was a man, tall and regal, dressed in fine military gear with badges for countless acts of bravery. In his hand was a sword, long and thin, with gems inlaid in the hilt.

            The other was a woman with long, wavy hair in a plain, flowing white gown. She clutched a wrapped bundle in her arms, and bright baby eyes peered through the folds. She smiled as she looked at her child, and one of her fingers was extended for the infant to grasp with her tiny hands.

            _This was your mother’s locket. She loved you very much…and our betrothal was not done out of anything but concern for your future. Think about what I have said. I will wait and find you when Vincent is not around. –Verian_

            Aralyn closed the locket and tossed the note to the side of the bed after tearing it into pieces. Verian had come out of nowhere, from a land of fantasy, and offered her a past and a family, which she had never had before. Despite herself, she opened the locket and felt a deep ache in her chest. Could these faces be the parents she had never known, she wondered? Were they familiar because some part of her remembered, or was that only because she wished it to be true?

            Her mother had disappeared, but what of her father? Was there a way to see him again? Was _Verian_ the only way?

            Despite the strangeness of the situation, there was a very real part of her that wished this fantasy was true. It offered her the hope of a family, which she had not had in many long years.

            Still fingering the locket, she lay on her side and closed her eyes. “I think I know now,” she whispered. “Sephiroth…I think I understand how you must have felt in Nibelheim.”

            Gently, she closed the locket. With resolve on her face, she vowed to herself that she would not fall the way that her husband had. She had enough to mend from the past she did remember – she did not have the strength to worry about the unknown before that.

~*~*~*~


	35. First Class Catastrophe

Chapter Thirty-Five: First Class Catastrophe

            _When lunch hour came, Zack made his way to the small restaurant that was Shinra’s most reliable establishment, meaning that it didn’t serve food out of a vending machine. He sat at a table, collapsing on one chair and draping his feet across another. Drumming his fingers on the table, he waited for one of the nearby waitresses to take his order. It took a moment longer than usual; the women were involved in their conversation. He took a moment to enjoy the classic white, black, and silver checkered décor, but soon became bored by it._

_A girl with flaming red hair trimmed at her ears finally decided to attend to him. “Can I help you?” she asked, handing him a menu, which he returned. He wasn’t here for food._

_“Yes. I’m looking for a friend of mine. She has blonde hair and blue eyes, and is a little shorter than you are. Know of anyone?” He flashed a dazzling smile. He knew it wasn’t much to go on, but it was all he had gleaned from his glimpse in Sephiroth’s office earlier that morning. That, and a black uniform and white apron that made him believe she must work here._

_“Sir, there are hundreds of girls in Shinra that…”_

_She was interrupted by a loud crash, followed immediately by the sound of glass falling and shattering. A shrill cry sounded, though Zack was relieved to realize that it seemed to be more out of surprise than actual pain. The waitress slammed the menu down on Zack’s table angrily. “Aralyn!” she shrieked._

_The woman was sprawled out on her back, shards of porcelain and glass sprinkled around her, a server’s tray abandoned near her head. Her eyes were hazy, and she seemed confused and disoriented. “Aralyn!” the red headed server screamed again. “Can’t you do anything right? I just had to get a new set from the last time this happened!”_

_Zack stepped in, deftly maneuvering so he was between the waitress and the woman on the floor. “She may be hurt, and all you can care about are a few dishes?” Zack waved her away. The waitress’s cheeks flamed, and she pivoted and walked away haughtily, huffing incoherently as she left._

_Zack turned to the woman, kneeling beside her and offering a hand. He smiled warmly and kept his tone light. “Hey, you need a hand there? Your name’s Aralyn, right? I’m Zack Fair. Soldier, second class.”_

_He gripped her hand firmly and pulled her up. She wavered, clutching her free hand to her head and moaning softly. “Hit your head?” Zack asked, supporting her and helping her to her feet. “Quite a fall you took. Could have been worse, though. You’re lucky.”_

_As her golden hair fell away from her face, his eyes widened. “Wait, you’re Sephiroth’s…” he stopped abruptly._

_Aralyn frantically gestured for him to stop talking. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Fair. Thanks for the hand.”_

_“Hey, if I’m the only one with the decency to help, this place has got some issues.”_

_“Aralyn!” the waitress’s shrill voice called. “Get in here! Break’s not for another hour!”_

_“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “Please don’t tell anyone about…us. He wants it to be a secret.”_

_Zack dragged two fingers across his lips and then tossed an imaginary key over his shoulder. “I will see you again, maybe after I file a complaint for that waitress. Has she always treated you this way?”_

_“It’s nothing, really,” she insisted, beginning to gather the shards with a broom._

_“Is Sephiroth aware of how you are being treated?”_

_Aralyn shook her head. “It’s good for the waitress that he doesn’t.” She smiled wryly. “I might not have a manager the next day.”_

_“Oh, you’d have her, but she’d be missing a few vital body parts and come to work in a particularly small cardboard box.”_

_Aralyn smiled, chuckling politely. He laughed along with her, then lightly clapped her on the arm and winked. “Catch you later, Aralyn.”_

_She smiled and returned to her work. “Wait!” she called, looking up. “You’ll see Sephiroth later, won’t you?”_

_“I could run into him, why?”_

_She smiled, sadly. “Could you just…tell him I said hello?”_

_Zack nodded. “Will do.”_

~*~*~*~


	36. Conspirators

Chapter Thirty-Six: Conspirators

            Verian was aware of the nearly silent footsteps that followed him around every corner and turn. When he turned back to look, all he saw were shadows. He didn’t call out; he knew who it was. Only when he reached a secluded park did the stranger slip from the darkness. The man was significantly shorter and younger than his brother, but they shared the same silver hair and glowing, catlike green eyes. Unlike his elder brother, however, this man was an ally.

            “Aralyn rejected you,” Kadaj began, smiling.

            Verian frowned but did not comment on the obvious insult. “What do you need?”

            “I’ve come to renew my offer,” Kadaj said, idly tossing a materia sphere in his hand as he spoke. “Maybe this time you will accept?”

            Verian sighed. “Why?”

            “Why what?”

            “Why are you offering this? Your brother Yazoo clearly disapproves, and if I’m not mistaken, you serve the same master.”

            Kadaj chuckled darkly. “Hardly. My ‘master’, as you call him, happens to be away on…business, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt me.” He caught the materia and rotated it in his palm. It started to glow with a pale yellow light. His voice lost its humor, and became soft, alluring, like a predator coaxing its prey. “I am offering to help you. I believe that what you gain will be worth it to you, and that’s all that matters, right? What I gain is my own business. I’m sparing you the petty details.”

            Verian looked hesitant, so Kadaj continued. “Aralyn is yours by right. Both you and I know that. Do you have another solution?”

            Verian turned his back. “Can I have time to think this through?”

            “You don’t have that time,” Kadaj shot back, impatient now. Verian was unnerved by how abruptly Kadaj’s mood changed. “Aralyn is dying. She will not survive to fulfill your purposes unless you act quickly.”

            “You know about…?”

            “About her little problem? Of course. And I know more! That little bird has a very _enviable_ gift. Enough to even make a man want to marry, I suppose.”

            Kadaj’s tone was playful, while Verian’s was serious and grave. Kadaj gave him another moment, before Verian gave his answer.

            “I’ll do it.”

            Kadaj grinned evilly, drawing his blade and swinging it idly. “I’m glad you see reason. Just don’t tell anyone, and do _exactly_ as I say—“ Out of nowhere, on another whim, Kadaj slashed the air in front of Verian’s face. It was so close he could feel the rush of air as it passed. And then suddenly Verian was staring straight into eyes that glowed with as much malice as mako.

           “…Or you and the girl will pay _dearly_.”

~*~*~*~


	37. Competition

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Competition

            _Sephiroth looked up from the last remnants of yesterday’s papers, a firm knock disrupting his concentration. He sighed. He had wanted to get this done quickly and literally sweep Aralyn off her feet. He had heard of a new restaurant that was supposed to be exceptional. She would enjoy the finery, and he wound enjoy the chance to repent._

_The knock continued and he gave up. “Come in,” he said, turning back to his papers._

_He knew it was Zack without even looking up. “Hey, Seph!” his comrade called out in greeting. “Ooh…sorry about the papers. But it looks like you’re almost done.”_

_Sephiroth hummed a quiet affirmative, thumbing through the stack in an attempt to find the paper that corresponded to the one he was working on. The Turks had arranged them out of order again. He blamed Reno, whether or not it was justifiable._

_“You up for a little exercise?” Zack asked, drawing his oversized sword with a flourish and resting it on his shoulder. “You’ve got to get out of this office or you’ll go insane, and I still need my revenge from last time.”_

_Sephiroth gave a small, one-sided smile, amused by the idea. “Revenge? How do you plan to do that?”_

_“By whacking you good with this nice metal stick!” Zack said, grinning, whirling his sword in a circle behind his head._

_“You can try, at any rate,” Sephiroth scoffed, shaking his head and returning to his papers._

_“Aw, you’re terrified of me and you know it!”_

_“You can go ahead and think that if it makes you feel better.” Sephiroth stood and returned the papers to a file._

_“So…you coming?” Zack asked._

_Sephiroth put the papers in a locked desk and then drew his exceptionally long Masamune. “I may as well humor you now. You won’t be laughing when you wake up sore tomorrow.”_

_“We’ll see who’s sore after I’m done with you!” Zack led the way, Sephiroth walking elegantly and confidently behind. Zack held the door open for Sephiroth, gesturing in with his hand. “Ladies first,” he said, bowing._

_“You’re really asking for it,” Sephiroth said as Zack took his position in the middle of the arena. Sephiroth didn’t bother to prepare; he didn’t need to._

_Zack was the first to leap, but his attack was swatted away like Sephiroth was hitting at crippled flies instead of a fellow Soldier. Zack frowned in concentration, surveying the silver haired swordsman for any hint of weakness. Just to spite him, Sephiroth left an intentional opening in his defenses, bait he knew that Zack could never resist. Zack knew the futility of it all, but he tried nonetheless. As expected, he was blocked, the shock of the blow shaking the joints of his arms until he feared they’d break, while Sephiroth’s arm was steady._

_“Ha,” Zack sighed as he raised his sword and backed away. “Ready to surrender? I’ll make the terms fair enough…”_

_“Funny. I was about to say the same.”_

_Zack continued battering at Sephiroth, who stayed on defensive. Zack continued onward, savoring the challenge. The entire time, he shot out ultimatums, pretending that he was in the lead, trying to get at the ever stoic general._

_“And guess who I ran into in the diner?”_

_Sephiroth looked up, his expression saying that he didn’t particularly care and that he was, in addition, mildly annoyed. “That girl you keep talking about…what’s her name…Aerith?” he guessed blandly, blocking another of Zack’s strikes effortlessly._

_“Nah, I’m talking about_ your _girl!”_

_Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, his face impassive, but Zack swore for a moment his stone mask faltered. “And?”_

_“She took a pretty hard fall.”_

_Sephiroth tensed, and his eyes widened. His breathing was harsher, and it wasn’t because of exertion. Zack swiped, taking advantage of the moment of panic he had caused his opponent. The general, however, jumped back, evading the blow at the last second. It had been close. Far too close._

_“She’s all right, but she’ll probably have some killer bruises tomorrow.” Zack admitted in guilt. He hadn’t expected Sephiroth to react like that. The pain in his eyes had been real, and it wasn’t right. For someone who showed no emotion, ever, this was a horrible shock. He hadn’t known and never would have guessed that Sephiroth felt so strongly toward her._

_Sephiroth relaxed and gripped his sword tighter. His frown did not fade. “Do not do that again.”_

_Zack stopped, dropping his sword so the tip rested on the ground. “I scared you, didn’t I?” His tone, for once, was not mocking, but contemplative and slightly confused. He guessed that this wasn’t the first time this had happened by his reaction. Was she sick, he wondered?_

_He shook his head, then raised his sword and charged again, only to have his weapon battered away by the significantly slimmer Masamune._

_There was now an edge to Sephiroth’s maneuvers, releasing the worry and fear that he did not dare to reveal otherwise. “This is real, isn’t it?” Zack dared to ask. “This isn’t just some passing crush.”_

_Sephiroth neither confirmed nor denied anything, instead choosing to sweep forward and seize the hole in Zack’s defenses, sliding the tip of his long blade to his throat. Zack closed his eyes and dropped his sword. “All right, Seph. You win this one.”_

_“And?” Sephiroth prodded further._

_“…And the last one. And…probably the next one too.” He smiled sheepishly._

_Sephiroth lowered the blade and sat on one of the benches near the wall, sheathing his weapon after ensuring that it was clean and in good repair. Zack came to join him, though his arrival was strikingly different. He could barely make it, and when he did, he was doubled over, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath and borrowing the towel Sephiroth offered to wipe the sweat from his face. Sephiroth sat next to him, tall and upright, his breathing slow and steady._

_“Thank you for the contest, even though it was one sided,” Sephiroth said, taking the damp towel and exchanging it for a water bottle._

_“Someday I’ll hit you. If it’s only once on the smallest toe, I will get you.”_

_“Hmmm. So you continue to claim.”_

_“So,” Zack said as he leaned back, feeling better after the long drink of water. “The great General Sephiroth is in_ love _.”_

_“That’s enough of that, Zack.”_

_“Her name’s Aralyn, right? Beautiful name. Foreign…somehow. Melodic.”_

_Sephiroth looked away._

_“Hey, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! In fact, it might do you some good to have a woman. She seemed nice, like a good match for you.”_

_Sephiroth grabbed the water bottle from Zack, though he seriously doubted that it was out of actual thirst. He seemed distracted and far away. After it was clear that he would get no more out of the General, he suggested leaving. He proposed to go down and relax in the lounge for a while, but Sephiroth only shook his head and left, giving the excuse that he had work to complete._

_Zack waited until Sephiroth had left to voice his thoughts to himself. “Clueless. General or not, he’s blind as a bat. Ironic…sadly enough.” Shrugging, he shouldered his Buster Sword and walked out casually, heading toward the diner where Aralyn worked._

_“Clueless, clueless, clueless….”_

~*~*~*~


	38. Enemy's Emergence

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Enemy’s Emergence

            Aralyn didn’t show up for work.

            At first Tifa shrugged it off. It wasn’t unusual for a person to miss twenty minutes, even though it was an extreme rarity for the very punctual Aralyn. She was always at the door minutes early, sometimes eating her breakfast out of a napkin as she stood and waited for Tifa to come and retrieve her. Tifa was having a second key made so she could let herself in from the cold, but it wouldn’t be finished for a few more days.

            When it reached the point where Aralyn was absent for a full hour, Tifa allowed herself to worry.

            “Vincent, have you seen Aralyn?” she asked.

            Vincent shook his head. “Not since last night when she left.”

            “This isn’t like her…”

            “Aw, she’s probably just sleeping in!” Yuffie offered. “I know I would.”

            “You’re right,” Tifa replied, sounding like she was trying very hard to convince herself. The uneasy look didn’t leave her face. “She’s just tired, and she deserves a break.”

            Two hours, then three passed, and even Yuffie had to admit that something wasn’t right. Vincent was in the corner, staring out a window, not moving. He seemed even tenser than Tifa.

            “You guys are overreacting!” Yuffie still insisted. “Look, let’s settle this! Let’s give her a call and see what’s up!”

            Vincent handed Yuffie his phone wordlessly. She scrolled through his phone book until she found Aralyn’s name, and then put it on speakerphone and set it on the table so they all could share the conversation.

            It was a long wait. Yuffie started counting the times it rang, but gave up when she ran out of fingers. “Hello?” They almost didn’t recognize her voice when Aralyn finally picked up..

            “Aralyn?” Tifa asked.

            “Tifa? I’m so, so sorry…” She was speaking in barely more than a whisper, and her voice seemed unsteady and shaky.

            “Hey, don’t sweat it! What’s wrong? We’re worried about you. Are you sick? Is it acting up again?”

            “No I just…Tifa, I need you to believe that I’m fine, but I need the day off. I’ll work double hours tomorrow if you want but…I-I just can’t come in today.” There was silence as she turned away for a minute, muffled noises barely registering in their end.

            “No, take it off! No penalty.” Tifa assured her.

            “…Thank you so much, Tifa.”

            Aralyn hung up abruptly, leaving everyone confused and startled.

            It wasn’t until that afternoon that Cloud burst through the door, his face drawn and his eyes angry. “Have you heard?” he asked.

            “Heard what?” Tifa asked, concerned at the venom in his voice.

            Cloud moved to a small television that was mounted on the wall for the customers to see. He picked up the remote from Marlene’s side; changing the channel from the children’s program she had been watching to the news.

            “…Casualties still unknown, but are estimated to be extremely high,” the newscaster began. “Shinra is dedicating all of the Turks to the task of finding out the details, and until we know the truth, it is encouraged that panic not be spread. They aren’t one hundred percent certain that Sephiroth was behind this massacre but all evidence…”

            Cloud turned off the TV, judging that his companions had heard enough.

            “It was another Nibelheim!” he seethed. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” He roughly handed the remote back to Marlene, obviously distraught. “I don’t need an exact count to know that at least twenty were killed, and untold more wounded! The city was leveled!”

            Cloud’s news was met with silence. No one spoke, and no one needed to. Tifa wordlessly moved to the front doors, locking them and posting a sign announcing that the Seventh Heaven was temporarily closed. She didn’t want to be distracted right now. She knew that the rest of Avalanche would come as soon as they heard the news, and in preparation, she unlocked the back door.

            “Why?” Yuffie finally asked. “Was Jenova there or something?”

            “The Turks don’t have a reason as of yet,” Cloud confirmed. “Maybe…maybe there wasn’t one.”

            Tifa turned to Vincent to find him still rigid in the corner. He hadn’t moved, though he seemed greatly disturbed in his own quiet way. “What are you thinking?” she asked him.

            “I’m thinking that Aralyn heard the news before we did.”

            Tifa paused, then nodded. “She’s probably taking this pretty hard…”

            “Why?” Yuffie countered. “She has no family, so she couldn’t have had a loved one in that city. And she’s not connected to Sephiroth like we are.”

            Tifa didn’t miss the sight of Vincent’s fist clenching.

            “This is a dark day,” Tifa said gently. “And you don’t have to be connected to any of the dead to feel the sorrow of what’s been done.”

            “Well I’m not saying that. I just think that it’s no reason to have a breakdown…”

            “A breakdown?” Vincent asked harshly. “You don’t know _anything_ , Yuffie.”

             Yuffie flinched back as if he had slapped her.

            “Maybe someone should go and see her. If she’s hurting this badly, she shouldn’t be alone,” Tifa offered. “Marlene and I could go.”

            “No,” Vincent said. “She needs some time alone. Maybe later tonight, but for now, let’s leave her be.”

            Tifa met his solemn eyes, knowing there was something in there that he wasn’t revealing, and nodded. “If you think it will help…”

~*~*~*~

            Kadaj flipped a golden brooch between his gloved fingers, a mad grin on his face. He seemed captivated by the way the moonlight seeping through the old rafters played over its smooth surface. When he tired of this, he flipped it into the air and caught it, laughing.

            “What did you _do_?” Yazoo seethed as he walked into the chapel.

            “Oh come _on_ , brother. Lighten up and have some fun! There’s probably still some spoils left if you’re game for some digging through the ashes.”

            “Sephiroth’s orders were to _lie low_! Now everyone is talking!” His voice was faster than usual, more urgent.

            “Exactly! Everyone is talking. Won’t this be so much more fun?”

            “You _traitor_!”

            The grin was wiped off Kadaj’s face, and replaced with an angry grimace. He walked towards his older brother, slowly, making sure to grind the flowers beneath his feet with every single step.

            “Mother will return soon. And when she does, I will be sure that every filthy mortal on this planet shows her the proper respect. Are you saying I’m betraying Mother? I am glorifying her! Giving them a taste of her power!””

             Yazoo said nothing.

            “Or are you more concerned about those little _insects’_ deaths?” Kadaj sneered.

            “What will you gain?” Yazoo asked simply.

            “Mother will be—“

            “Don’t start that with me!” Yazoo cut across sharply. “That is not why you did this! You can’t hide it from me.”

            Kadaj confirmed nothing, only grinned. It was all Yazoo needed to know.

            He had crossed Sephiroth to challenge him. He was staging a mutiny.

            And Kadaj would put Aralyn in the crossfire.

~*~*~*~


	39. An Evening of Serenity

Chapter Thirty-Nine: An Evening of Serenity

_“And how long has it been since you’ve seen Aralyn? Tell me!”_

_Sephiroth massaged his temples; not bothering to hide how much Zack was annoying him. “It’s not relevant, and what you’re asking simply isn’t practical.”_

_“This isn’t about practicality, Sephiroth! And you haven’t answered my question.”_

_Sephiroth sighed deeply, turning back to his papers as he answered, “Two weeks.”_

_Zack shook his head and slid the paper in front of the general. The delicate flyer was printed on lacy velum, pastel blue paper with white ink. It announced the annual Shinra company party was in two days. The theme was much more formal than last year’s, and was to include dinner and ballroom dancing._

_“What could it hurt? Take her out and enjoy yourselves! Give me one good excuse!”_

_“I have work.”_

_“I said one **good** excuse.”_

_Sephiroth laid his head in his hands and motioned Zack away, desperate to end Zack’s endless nagging. “I will consider it.”_

_Zack shook his head, scoffing, but left, leaving the flyer on Sephiroth’s desk._

_Sephiroth picked up the paper, frowning deeply as he examined it. He turned his gaze back to the papers that Reno had delivered, which were gift wrapped and tied with a ridiculously frilly bow as a joke._

_If he worked all night tonight, he supposed he could find the time._

~*~*~*~

_Aralyn stood in front of the tall mirror, sighing as she examined herself. Zack had insisted that she dress up, and when she refused, she had come back to her apartment to find a formal dress draped on her bed. Not wanting to offend Zack by rejecting his gift, she had reluctantly complied._

_The dress was a very light pink, dusted lightly with glitter, and flowed past her ankles to pool at her feet. The sleeves were long and loose and the collar was in the shape of a V, allowing her rainbow pendant to be viewed. She had curled her hair and piled it up in a bun on the top of her head, allowing only her slightly longer bangs to frame her face._

_She didn’t know why Zack was making this big of a fuss._

_Judging herself to be as ready as she would ever be, she put on a long white trench coat to protect her from the cold night air. Her dress was hidden for now, but she knew that Zack wouldn’t let it stay that way. She made her way through the hallway, rode the elevator to ground level, and then exited the building and made her way to the location of the party, relying on the sound of the distant music to be her guide. She was glad for her long cloak, as it was snowing quite steadily._

_She hadn’t taken two steps into the party when two strong arms grabbed her and whirled her around playfully. “Hey! You made it!” Zack set her on her feet and pulled the coat off her shoulders. “And you look stunning, if I do say so myself!” He winked at her, causing her to blush furiously._

_“I blame all this on you,” she murmured._

_“Oh, you won’t, I promise. Give it oh…” he peered at his watch, “ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”_

_“Thank you for the dress,” Aralyn said lightly. “Even though I’m still mad at you…”_

_Zack grinned widely. “Oh, that wasn’t me.”_

_“It…wasn’t?”_

_“Nope! Maybe it was a fairy, or a tonberry, or…” He smirked mischievously as he trailed off. “Or maybe even a certain silver-haired someone…”_

_Aralyn wavered. “He would not…!”_

_“I said to give it ten or fifteen minutes.”_

_“He’s coming?!”_

_“Yep! Excited?”_

_“You could have told me!” Aralyn cried, suddenly feeling very nervous. “A little warning would have been…”_

_“Aralyn.”_

_Aralyn froze, not daring to breathe. Zack smiled, gesturing for her to turn around and answer to the smooth voice that had called her name. “Earlier than usual, Seph. I’m impressed.”_

_Aralyn couldn’t move. Zack laughed. “She hasn’t even seen you yet and already she’s breathless! Good going, man!”_

_She felt strong hands pull her into an embrace, though she still didn’t dare to face him. “Aralyn,” he called again. His hands moved to her shoulders, and he slowly turned her toward him._

_Sephiroth was dressed in a dark, navy blue suit with gold trimming the edge of the sleeves at his wrists. The jacket was long, the coattails coming down to his knees in the back. His long, silver hair contrasted against the dark fabric._

_“You better do something quick or she might stop breathing,” Zack advised, clapping Aralyn lightly on the shoulder._

_She was quickly brought out of her stupor by the thought of how ridiculous she must look. “Hello, Sephiroth,” she managed. “It’s been…a while.”_

_He nodded, looking truly sorry. He lightly fingered the fabric of her draping sleeve. “You look…radiant.”_

_She blushed red. She could hear how hard it was for him to say it. He was not used to using such language, and he’d never said anything like that to her before. “You were behind all this?”_

_“I confess. I am guilty.”_

_“You didn’t have to be this lavish, Sephiroth. It’s…too much.”_

_He looked stunned. “You…don’t like it?” He quickly turned her around, desperate to make up for what he had done. “Zack,” he growled, “I told him it was…”_

_“Oh, Sephiroth,” Aralyn chuckled, causing his concern to turn to confusion. “You’re hopeless!” She threw her arms around his neck, her worries swept away. “What will I ever do with you?”_

_Zack punched Sephiroth on the forearm, smiling and giving him a thumbs-up. “Hate to leave, but I’ve got a girl waiting on me too! Don’t blow her night, Seph. Take good care of her.”_

_“As if I needed to be told,” Sephiroth countered. He turned back to her as Zack left. “So, you aren’t angry?”_

_“No, of course not. Just…stunned.”_

_Sephiroth hummed his consent and gently folded her hands in his. “It has been…far too long.” Aralyn had never seen him like this; he was so calm and serene, and he looked at her with an emotion she couldn’t name._

_“I miss you,” she said. “Even though we’re so close, we never seem to meet.”_

_They stood there for a long time, oblivious to the people moving around them. It was Aralyn that first broke the silence. “I know I’m pushing my luck but do you suppose you and I could…?”_

_He raised a single eyebrow. “I’m not one to preach on etiquette, but aren’t I supposed to ask you?”_

_“Well I didn’t think you’d…” she stopped, looking up at him._

_“Aralyn,” he cut across her, his tone soft and quiet. He lifted her chin as he cupped her face in his white-gloved palm, gazing into her eyes. “Would you dance with me?”_

_With her dazed, slight nod, he pulled her into the swirling crowd, ignoring Reno’s open-mouthed stare. He saw the redhead turn to Rude, pointing and stuttering something._

_Sephiroth pulled her closer and stepped deeper into the crowd. Reno stuck his tongue out at him, Sephiroth answering with a smirk. He released one of her hands, moving his now free hand to rest lovingly on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked._

_“No…”_

_Sephiroth moved in time to the music, Aralyn following afterward. They spent the dance in silence, but it was comfortable and even welcomed. Sephiroth proved capable of guiding her through the steps, leading her on their path, and catching her when she lost her balance._

_Somehow, the sonata being played seemed a lot shorter than when Aralyn had heard it last. When the last chord rang through the room, reverberating until the tone died, he pulled her back to the side. To her utmost embarrassment, he brushed her fingers to his lips in a very formal kiss._

_“Sephiroth!”_

_“Thank you, Aralyn.”_

_She was speechless, her face burning crimson. She caught sight of Zack, who apparently had seen the occurrence, and was laughing very hard, much to the confusion of his brunette dancing partner._

_Sephiroth looked around, his face dangerously passive. “You’re uncomfortable in the crowd, aren’t you?” Aralyn asked._

_“I’ll live for one night,” he insisted._

_“I might not, though. Come,” she said as she took his hands. “Let’s go outside. It’s a beautiful night.”_

~*~*~*~


	40. Attempt on her Life

Chapter Forty: Attempt on her Life

            Aralyn returned the next day, delving into her work and not speaking much besides the short replies to any question that was asked of her. Her sadness brought a gloomy aura to the entire building, even dampening Yuffie’s spirits. Soon the silence was so deep that it was nearly a racket to run the water faucet.

            After a half hour, Tifa slowly moved behind Aralyn and wrapped her arms around her shoulders in an understanding embrace. “Aralyn,” she said soothingly. “Are you going to be all right?”

            “Yeah I just…” she coldly tried to shrug off the embrace but Tifa wouldn't let go.           

            “Do you need the day off?”

            “No. It’s better when I’m not sitting and thinking about…at least here I’m occupied.”

            “All right,” Tifa said. “But if you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen, okay?”

            Aralyn turned her gaze to Tifa, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

            Seizing the lapse in Aralyn’s depression, Yuffie sprang to her side. “You know what you need? An adventure! Don’t tell anyone but,” here she lowered her voice to a whisper, her eyes glinting with glee of her scheme, “I know where Vincent hides his materia!”

            Aralyn turned her gaze to the silent gunman, wondering if he had managed to hear. “No thanks, Yuffie. I’ll stick with the dishwashing.”

            “Aw…maybe Denzel will be up for it,” she murmured as she walked away.

Aralyn just shook her head as she once again immersed her hands in the warm, soapy water.

            For a moment the silence returned, until Aralyn let out a sharp gasp. When she pulled her hand from the water, a streak of red ran the length of her finger.

            Vincent was at her side before anyone could blink. Aralyn jumped back, startled by how unnaturally fast he had come. “Just got caught on a knife or something…no big deal.” She smiled through her grimace as she tried to cover it with her hand; it stung fiercely.

            Tifa approached and gently nudged Vincent to the side. “It looks worse than it is, but you can’t blame Vincent. He’s an ex-Turk, remember, and you have to believe they taught him something about reacting quickly.”

            “Or maybe his inner vampire was reacting to the blood…” Yuffie was smart enough to stop there. She smiled nervously under his glare and silently slinked away.

            Tifa bandaged the wound and went back to the front of the building to attend to a customer.

            “Vincent could I ask you—“ Aralyn began, but she was interrupted by Tifa.

            “Aralyn, Verian’s here to see you.”

            Vincent strode forward, only stopped when Aralyn gripped his cloak. “Give the man half a minute,” she whispered. “I’m not in the mood to fight today.”

            Vincent scowled deeply but moved from the doorway to let her pass.

            Verian smiled when he saw her. “Hey! Glad to see you’re well.”

            Aralyn did not answer to this.

            “I just dropped by to say hello, but it’s a bit chilly outside. Mind if I stay a moment?”

            “I suppose not,” she said timidly, backing up to let Tifa take his order. He slid into a seat.

            “What do you recommend, Aralyn?” he asked after scanning the menu.

            “Tifa makes a wonderful pie…”

            “Nah, too heavy. I just want something light, how about a drink?”

            “I can whip up a shake or something but…”

            “Wonderful! I’ll take two helpings.”

            Verian remained casual even under Vincent’s heavy gaze. When Aralyn returned, Verian grabbed her hand before she could retreat back to the kitchen. “I can’t eat two helpings myself, Aralyn.”

            Eyeing him suspiciously, she reluctantly sat. He pulled a separate wine glass engraved with elaborate silver etchings from his coat and began to spoon copious amounts of the shake into it.

            “Verian this is absurd! You can’t honestly think…!”

            “Absurd? Aralyn, just this once. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you pain.” Idly he began to swirl her drink around with the spoon.

            “This doesn’t change anything! I’m not going to marry you!”

            “I understand, Aralyn. Drink, it’s on me.” He handed her the glass.

            Still meeting his gaze, she pressed the glass to her lips and sipped the drink, then set it down. “I’m really not hungry right now, Verian.”

            “Oh, come on, wasting all that is such a shame…”

            Vincent leapt forward in an instant, registering as nothing more than a streak of crimson in Aralyn’s view. She was knocked aside by a blow that had not been meant to harm her, but to push her away from the danger. When she looked up from the ground where she had been thrown flat, Verian was held by his neck, his feet dangling several inches above the ground, Cerberus pressed firmly against his temple.

            “Explain yourself,” Vincent hissed. Aralyn had seen him infuriated before, but never like this. His hand, normally so steady and sure, was shaking with fury, and his voice was quiet and deadly.

            “Vincent, what is going on?” Tifa asked.

            Vincent thrust his fingers into Verian’s coat pocket, briefly fishing around and pulling out a bag of what appeared to be finely ground salt. He then gestured to Aralyn’s glass. The shake he had spooned into it was tinted a slightly darker color.

            “What is this? And why was Aralyn’s glass laced with it? Is that why you were so eager for her to consume it all?”

~*~*~*~


	41. Necessary Separation

_Breathless and shivering from the cold, Aralyn arrived in the middle of the gardens, followed closely by Sephiroth, who seemed immune to the elements. A worried look crossed his face when he saw her quaking, and he wordlessly slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. It was large on her, but the long sleeves covered her hands and the length of the coat would warm more of her body. She smiled gratefully, her eyes expressing invisible thanks._

_“We can go in,” he suggested. “I’d rather brave the crowds than you risk hypothermia.”_

_“But it’s so beautiful tonight! Look at the sky!”_

_Sephiroth looked up, more to oblige her than anything else. After a second he moved his gaze back to Aralyn, taking delight in watching her fade away into the spellbinding beauty of the cosmos. “It’s cleared up fast,” she said. “Though the clouds are still blocking Cygnus…oh but the moon! Isn’t it wonderful?”_

_“It is…beautiful,” he said uneasily. He was not used to using such adjectives._

_“All it needs is Cygnus, and it would be perfect…”_

_“Cygnus?” he asked, moving behind her and gently swaying as he held her. “There are plenty of other stars.”_

_“Sephiroth, don’t you know?” she looked up at him earnestly, her lips playing a half smile. “Cygnus…the swan.”_

_“What does that…?”_

_Gently silencing him with one finger, her hand moved to his back, where his single black wing extended full length at her touch. “Wings,” she said, smiling. “Flying…you, Sephiroth.”_

_He pulled the jacket closer around her as the shivering began again, and when that did not help, he instinctively pulled her back toward the warmth of the building. “No,” she protested. “I’m fine. I want to be here.”_

_He hummed, frowning slightly at her refusal. “I won’t have you freeze, Aralyn.”_

_“Well, I won’t go in so…”_

_He didn’t hear anything else she said. Suddenly he found himself closer, and he could only tell that she had stopped talking by how her lips had fallen still. When he moved even closer, he saw her mouth his name. Her breath was warm against his hand, which had moved to rest on her cheek. He was staring into her eyes, and was only half aware of it._

_Her hands moved to his chest and pressed, trying to force him away, but he encircled her with his arms and overcame her futile attempts. Extending his wing to full length, he then gently wrapped the wing around her, and soon her shivering stilled. As he rested his forehead against hers, the panic in her eyes seeped away and morphed into welcoming, pleading acceptance._

_“Aralyn…” His mind was racing, his heart beating fast. So many things whirred through his mind, contending against what was happening. All his doubts and fears hit him full force, trying to pry him from her. Momentum, however, would not let him stop. Her lips were a hair’s breadth from his, and he was so very close to letting go of his fears and just letting it happen…_

_“Aralyn,” he breathed painfully. “I…I can’t do this.”_

_Withdrawing his wing, he quickly pushed her away in a manner that was more violent than he had intended. Not allowing himself to feel remorse, he forced himself to remain rigid as Aralyn was thrown into the snow, gasping for breath and clutching her heart like it pained her._

_“Sephiroth?” she asked, sounding very hurt and frail. She pulled herself to her knees, looking up at him. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean…!”_

_“This is…wrong…” His eyes closed, and he took on that dangerously stoic look that effectively hid whatever emotion he was trying to hide._

_“Sephiroth?_ Sephiroth _!”_

_But he was already yards away, walking away slowly, as if to emphasize his decision. Aralyn was left on her knees, her calls falling on deaf ears._

_~*~*~*~_


	42. Overreaction

Chapter Forty-Two: Overreaction

            Verian held his chin high, the only defiance he could muster in his current position. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he said, his voice oddly level considering there was a gun pointed at his temple with its wielder all too ready to fire it.

            Aralyn stood mute and frozen, taking the glass in her hand and examining it disbelievingly. Only after Yuffie nudged her shoulder did she drop it to the floor, shattering the goblet.

            “Aralyn, this is quite absurd, will you tell him to stop?” Verian said.

            “Don’t talk to her,” Vincent snarled. “Explain yourself!”

            “I have nothing to explain.”

            “What did you try to drug Aralyn with?”

            “Vincent,” Cloud said calmly, gripping his friend’s arm and slowly averting the gun. “There was nothing in her drink.”

            “How do you…?”

            “Look.”

            A small, contented mewing interested Vincent enough to turn his head. Marlene’s tiny kitten sat upright, her pink tongue cleaning up the reddish shake off her paws before she once again lowered her face to the spilled drink, lapping it up. Sensing the silence, the kitten looked up, licking its lips before letting out a confused mew.

            “Any poison meant for Aralyn would have affected the cat,” Tifa said mildly. “Vincent, are you sure you’re all right?”

            Vincent turned his gaze back to Verian, stunned beyond capacity to speak. His gun wavered, then lowered, though he did not release him from captivity just yet.

            “Verian,” Aralyn whispered. “Just go.” The words were pointed half at Verian, half at Vincent.

            Vincent released him and pushed him toward the door. Verian nodded at Aralyn, winked once, and then left the building.

            Silence reigned for several minutes. Yuffie finally dared to approach Vincent, who had not moved. “Hey, maybe a little rest and you’ll be good as new! Just one of those days, ya know? Everyone has them! So what if you almost killed him? He was a jerk anyway!” she gave a halfhearted, nervous laugh.

            “I _know_ what I saw,” Vincent retorted darkly. “I saw a threat and acted accordingly.”

            “Vincent, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?” Tifa asked. “He’s creepy, but he hasn’t done anything!”

            Vincent sent one look at Aralyn. In a vain attempt to try to make him stay, she spoke quickly. “I don’t want Verian anywhere near me! I’m glad Vincent’s protecting me!”

            “Your protector almost killed an innocent man,” Cid stated.

            Vincent winced visibly. “That was not my intention…”

            “You can’t do this anymore, Vincent!” Tifa said.

            Vincent threw up a hand in a gesture of defeat, and then slowly walked away.

            “Don’t worry!” Yuffie said, punching Aralyn playfully on the arm. “Next time Verian comes around, we won’t let Vincent anywhere near. It’s just better that way…for the both of them…you see?”

            Thunder rolled in the distance and rain began to fall. Aralyn walked to the front window, placing her hand on the cold glass as if to summon him back. The rain came within seconds, falling fast and hard in sheets. She was suddenly very, very worried for her crimson-cloaked friend.

~*~*~*~

            Kadaj met Verian in the alley they had designated. His lips curled into a smirk; he knew that Verian had achieved his goal.

            “Isn’t it amazing what a fancy glass and a drop of food coloring can do? Valentine is no longer an issue. Within the week, victory will be ours.”

~*~*~*~


	43. Reasoning of a Lover

Chapter Forty-Three: Reasoning of a Lover

            _Zack entered Sephiroth’s office without so much as a knock, but the visit had not come as a surprise on any level. While normally a huge grin would be spread across Zack’s lips from the thrill of intruding on the general, he now frowned deeply, an expression all but foreign to him. He stood in the door, arms folded across his chest, staring at Sephiroth._

_The general didn’t even look up. “Good morning, Zack,” he said in a cold, business-like tone._

_Zack didn’t reply. Normally, Sephiroth couldn’t keep his comrade’s mouth shut, and now he found himself wishing that he would speak. Finally, by tilting his head up, he met Zack’s gaze, his posture not relaxing and his cold, emotionless mask not dissolving._

_“If you didn’t return her feelings,” Zack began slowly, through grit teeth, “you could have let her know in a better way.”_

_Sephiroth suddenly felt cold, like he had been doused with water from a river in the winter. He did not let the feeling transfer to his expression. “Is she all right?” he asked blandly._

_“No she’s not all right!” Zack exploded, his tone very near a yell. “She won’t eat or sleep because of you!”_

_Sephiroth found himself incapable of a reply._

_“Why did you do this?” Zack demanded._

_Once again, the power of speech seemed to elude the general._

_"There must be a really good reason she’s down there in agony!” Zack retorted, his words coming like slaps. “What is it?”_

_“I didn’t mean for her to be hurt,” Sephiroth finally managed after seconds of ringing silence. “Not like that.”_

_“So you meant to cause her at least a little pain?”_

_“No! But I knew I had to! I couldn’t…” His eyes closed, masking the hurt that was plainly evident within them. His face became smooth, and Zack watched as Sephiroth bottled all his emotion, leaving behind an empty, unfeeling shell._

_“Please give her my condolences.” Sephiroth sat down, clearly signaling that Zack was dismissed and that failure to leave quickly would be a dangerous move._

_Zack didn’t take the hint, and instead, rubbed his forehead as if exhausted. “Look, sorry about being so…I just visited Aralyn. She needed a friend. It was a long time before I could get a word out of her, and then do you know what she said? She said that **she** was sorry for hurting **you**. She said that if this is what will make you happy, then she will step out of your life without another word.”_

_Sephiroth lowered his head. His face was set in a scowl, though his hands shook._

_“Is that what you intended?”_

_Coldly, fluidly, Sephiroth slowly nodded once._

_“Why? Why do that to her…and to yourself! You can’t tell me you’re not head over heels for the girl; I see it in your eyes. You’d die for her without a second’s hesitation, I know it!”_

_Sephiroth hesitated. “She returns my feelings,” he admitted quietly. “And therein lies the problem.”_

_Zack stared blankly at his commander. “So you don’t want her hurt, is that what you’re trying to say?”_

_“…Yes. That must be it.”_

_“Well, she’s in a lot of pain now, and I’m sure a visit would alleviate it. Does that change anything?”_

_There was a long pause. “No. She’s strong; she’ll pull through this.”_

_Zack waited more, but when nothing came, he threw up his hands in defeat. “I won’t ask for your reasoning. I’m sure it’s so twisted I couldn’t make sense of it if I tried, and I know that I can’t convince you against what you’re set on. Let me tell you this, then. She needs you like she needs to breathe. You need the same. Both of you will suffocate if you remain adamant with this.”_

_He threw up his hands. “But you are the mighty Sephiroth, so I guess you know what’s best.”_

_Zack didn’t give Sephiroth a chance to reply. He exited the room slowly, pulling the door closed behind him._

_~*~*~*~_


	44. Trial by Fire

## Chapter Forty-Four: Trial by Fire

_“Heya, Aralyn! Brought you something!”_

_Aralyn turned her head to the side to see Zack in the doorway of her apartment. Her vision was blurred from the sleeping pill she had just taken, and so she was only able to identify the man by the peaks of black hair radiating from his blurred facial features._

_“Zack?” she murmured._

_“Nice to see you too!” he replied cheerfully. He moved to the small table at her bedside and swept off a thin layer of dust. The object he placed on it was blindingly colorful to Aralyn’s tired eyes._

_“What is it?” she asked._

_“Flowers!” he said, pulling up a chair beside the couch where she laid and ruffling her hair, noticeably more gently then he did when she was well. “You do like flowers, right?”_

_“Yes…thanks.”_

_“Ah, it was nothing. You feeling any better?”_

_“No,” she sighed. “I just took a sleeping pill…I didn’t sleep at all last night.”_

_“I don’t blame you. But hey, later, let’s do something. I don’t like you cooped up in here by yourself, especially now.”_

_“Dunno,” she sighed as she exhaled, her eyes starting to close of their own accord. “I guess I’ll think about it.”_

_“Hey, I’ll let you sleep, but one more thing. Can you give me a minute?”_

_Aralyn nodded fluidly._

_“Do you think you could talk to Seph? It shouldn’t have ended like this. I’ll come with if you want. He owes you an apology, big time. But you know him…he’s stubborn. You might not get it if you don’t go to him.”_

_She opened her eyes. “I can…try.”_

_“Good then. You rest now, all right? Sleep well.”_

_Aralyn was already breathing deeply, her face peaceful in sleep. Pulling the blankets over her so they covered her previously exposed arm, he then ruffled her hair again, just for old time’s sake, and left._

_~*~*~*~_

_The alarm went off at six in the evening._

_Zack was used to the blaring lights and the siren, but he was annoyed that they had gone off just as he had settled down for some relaxation. Moving instinctively, he grabbed his sword and sprinted down the hall to see what the commotion was. From the end of the hall, he could see Sephiroth had made similar preparations and was speaking to a Turk._

_Reno seemed to have finished narrating the situation to Sephiroth just as Zack came within hearing range, and the general ran off to take the position he had been assigned. Rolling his eyes at having to tell it all over again, Reno began speaking._

_“Avalanche. Sephiroth’s guarding the President and Rufus. You’re stationed at the entrance. Meet them as they come and take out as many as you can. Don’t let anyone through.”_

_“Got it.”_

_Avalanche’s numbers were pathetically few. He had been expecting at least ten, but there were only three young, beat up snipers. He turned to the soldier beside him. “What’s going on?”_

_“Not sure. They think this is a distraction, but we can’t do anything about it until we receive word on what their plans are.”_

_Frowning, Zack nonetheless took his stance. For five minutes, all was quiet except for the occasional distant burst of gunfire._

_He didn’t even get the chance to raise his sword before the radio at his side whirred to life. “Zack,” the President’s voice said. “They’re attacking the living quarters. I think everyone’s managed to evacuate, but we need you to get the civilians away from the building. We think Avalanche has planted a bomb in there and you have approximately three minutes.”_

_“I’m on it.”_

_It was an easy job, and everyone was a hundred feet from the building when the bomb went off. A sound like thunder tore the air as an entire section of the building was blown to pieces. Glass from shattered windows fell to the ground like falling stars, and afterward it was deathly quiet._

_“Did the other two groups get out all right?” Zack asked the radio._

_“Everyone except for one,” the President confirmed. “A wonderful success! Avalanche has retreated for now.”_

_“Except for one?” Zack asked._

_“One person. Her neighbor said she thought she was at work so we didn’t go into her apartment, but it turns out she wasn’t. Odds are, she’s probably still in there.”_

_Zack did a double take. “…Do you know the lady’s name?” But he didn’t have to hear the reply to know who it was._

_He didn’t hear anything the president said beyond, “Aralyn.” He knew it couldn’t have been a mistake. Aralyn hadn’t been at work because of the breakup; she’d been on the couch sleeping. If no one went to get her, there was no way she would have known…_

_“President,” Zack said, fighting down the panic. “I need to speak with Sephiroth. It’s urgent.”_

_~*~*~*~_


	45. Violater of the Sanctuary

## Chapter Forty-Five: Violator of the Sanctuary

            Kadaj watched in silent fascination from the shade of the glowing white trees. He had not come merely to act as a spectator, but he had time to spare, and he was content to quietly jeer at the solemn ritual occurring before him.

            Aralyn kneeled at the foot of one of the trees, dressed in her wedding gown. Kadaj found her attire quite ironic; should she not be dressed in the black robes that signified grieving? That was, after all, what she was here to do.

            Gently she arranged two roses, one a deep crimson and the other a pure white, so that the stems were deeply intertwined. The thorns tore into her soft hands, causing rivulets of blood to flow onto the leaves. While she winced at the sting, she did not falter in her task until the heads of the roses touched one another. She raised the large blossoms to her face, letting the velvet petals stroke her cheeks as she whispered formless words to an unknown recipient. Her eyes were nearly opaque, and so very far away.

            Eventually she set the roses upright in the damp soil at the foot of the tree. Having completed her task, she rose to her feet and slowly glided away.

            That was Kadaj’s signal to go.

            He strode forward boldly, entering Aralyn’s sanctuary with no remorse for how he was about to defile it. Unrepentantly, he first seized the roses, tearing the white from the red violently until he held one in each hand, the stems missing strips of their outer skin.

            He dropped the white to the ground for now, using his now free hand to draw his blade. In one swift, fluid motion, he severed the crimson bloom and a tiny bud that had not even opened yet from the stem. These he let fall without a second glance.

            He then retrieved the white blossom as he sheathed his weapon, eyeing the rose as a cruel smirk played on his face and his eyes lit maliciously. Grasping one solitary petal between two fingers, he ripped it off and let it fall to the earth on its own. He did the same over and over again, petal by petal, until after long, painful minutes, the flower was bare.

            Taking a vial from a pocket at his waist, he removed the cork and slowly drizzled the black water over the fallen petals. The whiteness that had managed to survive was now consumed, replaced with a burnt, ashy black as the petals ignited. He did this until there was only enough white left to tell that it had once existed.

            Chuckling as he pocketed the dark substance, he eyed his handiwork with pride. He only wished he could stay to see Vincent’s reaction as he came and realized, far too late, what it was what he was planning to do with Aralyn.

~*~*~*~


	46. A Choice Regretted

## Chapter Forty-Six: A Choice Regretted

            _“Yo, where are you, Seph? President’s looking for you and he doesn’t look so happy.” Reno peeked around corners, searching for the Soldier. “Going AWOL would not be cool right now, man…”_

_Reno turned another corner to find Sephiroth leaning against a wall, his eyes closed and his face covered by his hands. Zack’s voice came from an intercom that had been dropped to the floor. “Hey, Seph! Seph, are you there…?”_

_Reno cautiously advanced forward. “Hey man…are you sick or something? You don’t look so hot.”_

_Sephiroth slowly raised his head but did not look at Reno. Instead, his gaze wandered out the window, toward the rapidly collapsing building. He stood in shock, his eyes seeing something other than the scene in front of him. He wavered and fell against the wall, slumping to his knees as another tremor shook the building, another flame flaring dangerously high._

_“I’ll get a doctor!” Reno said, panicking. “Just stay put and…yeah!”_

_“Sephiroth!” the radio yelled back at the general. “Snap out of it! If we leave her now, she doesn’t stand a chance! Get it together!”_

_Sephiroth couldn’t move, and though he wished with all his might that he could, he was unable to tear his eyes away from the nightmare before him. Somewhere in that building, Aralyn was trapped._

_“Aralyn,” he groaned._

_“There’s still a chance!” Zack urged from the radio. “Look, you take it easy. I’m going in. Stop looking at the building, it’ll kill you too!”_

_Sephiroth stayed there for literally minutes after Zack stopped speaking to him. Soon footsteps approached, and he somehow managed to pull himself to his feet despite the sudden weakness that had taken hold of him._

_“Hey, looks like he’s fine after all!” Reno said, waving the white clad scientists away. “Ha ha, Sephiroth, very funny. I’ll get you back later, but the President kind of needs his bodyguard.”_

_Sephiroth began walking mechanically past Reno, turning in the opposite direction from the President’s office. “Hey, your brain scrambled or something?” He threw himself in the general’s way._

_Finally, Sephiroth granted his attention to the red headed Turk in the form of a lethal glare. Reno blanched. “Um…that way.” He said, pointing a finger in the opposite direction. “Orders are orders…”_

_Sephiroth extended a hand and knocked the Turk out of his way. Reno pulled himself up and called after him. “You’re going against orders! What’s wrong with you?”_

_Sephiroth didn’t stop, and determinedly walked away._

_Soon more guards were in his way. He met them with the same stone silence, not bothering to explain as he threw them aside. “Someone get the President,” a guard called._

_The general didn’t care about the consequences of his actions at this point._

_He met up with Zack at the door to the building. Zack shook his head. “I want you to stay out. I promise I’ll bring her back.”_

_“Why?” he countered, though he knew the reason, and the thought made his grip on his Masamune tighten until his knuckles were white._

_“Look, I know you’re a seasoned Soldier and all - heck, you’ve got years on me - but well…I don’t want you to see this.”_

_Sephiroth didn’t bother to respond. He pushed Zack away and severed a beam that had fallen across the doorway. As the beam fell, a large stack of debris that it had been holding at bay came rushing down in a gray avalanche. Small pieces of stone and wood struck the two men, but both remained unharmed as the dust cleared._

_“We haven’t even gone in yet,” Zack murmured._

_“Aralyn is in there.” With that, Sephiroth strode past the doorway, his posture much too tense and worried to match his calm mask. The fires that greeted him flickered in his eyes, and he looked very much like a demon._

_Zack grit his teeth, shouldered his sword, and followed._

_~*~*~*~_


	47. Wounds

## Chapter Forty-Seven: Wounds

_Sephiroth was greeted by a wave of intense heat, and he just managed to cover his eyes before debris blinded him. Slashing through a wall that barred his way, he continued onward like nothing had happened. Zack was calling for him to wait up, but he couldn’t spare a second. He knew that Zack was quite capable of taking care of himself._

_Her room had been on the third floor, and so he relied on his memory to lead him to where the stairs would be. The boards creaked and groaned under his weight, but he managed to reach the second floor with no mishaps. On the next floor, however, he wasn’t so lucky._

_As he felt the floor shift beneath him, he quickly reacted and leapt forward, increasing his already breakneck speed. The entire staircase fell as soon as he passed, quickly being devoured by the flames below. The fire hissed dangerously, throwing sparks that burned his face and hands. He didn’t allow himself to feel the pain._

_The building was not the calm apartment complex he remembered. The flames were kept relatively low, though there was a sheet of smoke that made breathing nearly impossible. The flames were licking the walls, streaking them with black, though they had yet to fully ignite. This floor was the most unstable yet. There were already gaping pits in the floors._

_Above the roar of the flames, he could hear Zack calling him. “Sephiroth! In here!” He didn’t question how Zack had made it up here before he had._

_Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sephiroth ran toward the sound of his voice. His heart was throbbing louder than the hiss and spark of the fires, and his fists were clenched so tightly that blood was seeped from where his nails bit into his palms._

_A door showed signs of having been broken in, and he kicked the remains out of the way. Through the thick haze that the heat created, he saw the silhouette of his spiky haired companion. His hand was on the forehead of a still figure on the ground. From the relief on Zack’s face, Sephiroth knew that somehow, Aralyn was hanging on._

_Aralyn lay under the remains of a shattered table. It seemed that she had sought cover under it, and it had saved her from the worst of it. However, something had struck the table and broken it like a twig, and now she lay under a large beam that buried her from the shoulders down. She had cuts all over her body, and her arm was at an angle that shouldn’t have been possible. She shuddered in pain with every breath._

_Sephiroth kneeled down beside the woman, Zack moving away respectfully. Shaking, he extended a hand to lay it on Aralyn’s pale cheek. Using his thumb, he gently brushed away the tears and blood that streaked her face. “Aralyn,” he breathed, doubting he could be heard over the sound of the flames. “Aralyn, wake up.” His voice was strained and pleading. He was all too aware that his vision was blurring._

_Aralyn was not capable of responding. Her head rolled limply to the side as he shook her shoulders in a desperate attempt to rouse her. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth._

_Zack moved and gently pried her body from Sephiroth’s hands. “You’ll hurt her more,” he said loudly, so he could be heard above the flames. “Help me free her.”_

_Wordlessly, the two men threw the beam off her and helped untangle her limbs from other large debris that had struck and imprisoned her. Once the rubble was removed, more wounds were revealed. Sephiroth was wavering dangerously, weak with the shock of it all. Zack had to work both to keep his friend upright and to do what he could to help Aralyn. Finally, he gave up, letting Sephiroth kneel at Aralyn’s side as he worked._

_When she was free, Zack nudged his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”_

_“We can’t move her,” he said numbly, grasping her wrist protectively. “Not without hurting her further.”_

_“I know,” Zack said. “But it has to be done.”_

_Sephiroth reached one hand under her neck and the other under her knees, lifting her slowly. Gently, he pressed her face into his chest, stifling her soft moans. Zack motioned for Sephiroth to follow. Sephiroth walked slowly, trying to glide along as smoothly as possible. All the same, he couldn’t prevent the occasional abrupt movement as he was forced to leap out of the way of falling debris. The sound of the flames drowned Aralyn’s cries._

_“Sephiroth,” Zack called. “There’s a hole in the floor and I’m going down. I’ll get help so she can be treated as soon as you two make it out.”_

_Sephiroth nodded, and Zack disappeared._

_He was all too aware that Aralyn’s life was seeping away. Looking around to make sure there were no flames nearby, he laid her down on the ground, assessing the damage. The entire front of her shirt was a deep, dark red. It startled him to see so much blood and, even worse, how quickly it was flowing; he hadn’t known that she’d been hurt that badly. He had nothing to bind the wounds with. He had to keep going._

_Picking her up again was worse than the first time, as she seemed to have regained some degree of consciousness. On his first attempt, he must have jostled her because she awoke with a cry. Her eyes opened, and she met Sephiroth’s gaze. He didn’t breathe until she had spoken again._

_“I knew…you’d come…”_

_Sephiroth nearly choked on his emotion, but he forced it down. Once again, he picked her up as smoothly as he could. She reached up, latching her arms around his neck as she allowed him to cradle her like a small child. He desperately hoped that she couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating._

_The stairs were still out, and he bit his lip in frustration. He could land that jump, it was only ten feet, but there was no telling what that would do to Aralyn. If he landed wrong and hit the wrong way, there was a chance that her broken rib would puncture her lung, and then it would be over._

_The flames roared triumphantly as another wall fell inward, missing Sephiroth by only a few feet. He couldn’t jump, but neither could he stay._

_Having made up his mind, he took a deep breath and then spread his wing as he exhaled. There wasn’t enough room to extend it fully, and the chances that he could catch a suitable wind for flying was slim, but he hoped that perhaps it might slow the descent._

_He held her tighter than ever before as he leapt from the ledge._

_Sephiroth managed to land so that he absorbed most of the impact, though Aralyn was still jostled painfully. Fueled by desperation, he ran toward the final staircase. He didn’t slow when he reached the stairs, and prayed that they would hold for just a few more seconds…_

_The moment Sephiroth stepped clear of the stairs, they collapsed, sending burning embers onto the pair. He turned his back to the wreckage and ran; he could see the door now._

_Stepping out into the air was a shock. The air, though not particularly cold, stung as it drove the heat from his body. And it was so clear, pure, and thin compared to the thick smoke. Aralyn seemed to feel it as well, as she shuddered briefly before falling deathly still. Exhausted and drained, he fell to his knees, still carefully shielding Aralyn with his body._

_In no time, hands were reaching toward the damaged Aralyn. Only when he looked up and identified them as doctors did he release her. They took her from him slowly, laying her out on a stretcher and loading her into an ambulance. Zack stood gravely by the doors of the vehicle, speaking rapidly with one of the female doctors. She shook her head and held up her hands in a clear sign of despair. Zack’s frown deepened._

_Someone was trying to put an oxygen mask on Sephiroth, but he angrily swatted them away. It was true that he was having trouble breathing, but that wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. The same nurse offered it to him again, this time managing to press it to his face. He grasped the tube that ran from the mask to the tank and ripped it out, the oxygen hissing as it was depleted. He threw the mask aside and rose to his feet._

_Zack shook his head and moved to help support him. Sephiroth didn’t comment, but silently accepted his friend’s help. The nurse was clearly put out, but Zack said something that convinced her that Sephiroth was not going to consent to any care._

_He was led to a housing area that hadn’t been damaged, and after several minutes he realized that Zack was taking him to his own house. Zack was silent the whole way, his face grave and ashen, which was so unlike the mischievous grin he usually wore._

_Zack gently set Sephiroth down on his couch and said something to him. He couldn’t focus long enough to tell what had been said. Shaking his head, Zack retreated to his room, emerging with blankets. Sephiroth heard only one word out of the next sentence. “Sleep.”_

_But he found that he couldn’t. Every time he dozed off he was haunted by images of Aralyn in the building, and what could have happened. He then saw her in a hospital bed, but he knew by how pale she was that it was too late…_

_He feared to fall asleep and witness those scenes again almost as much as he feared to wake up and find them to be true._

_~*~*~*~_


	48. Gratitude and Farewells

## Chapter Forty-Eight:  Gratitude and Farewells

“Vincent?”

            Aralyn walked further into the cave, her path lit by blue-green crystals. “Vincent!” she called again.

            He gave no answer, but she could see him now.

            He sat on the ground, facing a pillar of the crystals that served as a prison for a familiar woman. He didn’t move, and Aralyn couldn’t even tell he was breathing unless she looked very hard. There was a feeling in the air that made her regret coming, like she was intruding on a sacred moment meant only for the two of them.

            “Vincent?” she called again.

            He raised his head a little, but didn’t face her. “Aralyn.” It was an unintentionally cold and distant greeting. “What are you doing here?”

            “Looking for you,” she said quietly. “You never come to the Seventh Heaven anymore.”

            He didn’t reply, though she waited a long time for him to do so.

            “I can come back later.”

            He seemed to sense that she felt unwelcome here. “You can stay. You have more right to be here than I.”

            Aralyn really wanted to protest that, but she scooted a few steps forward to oblige him.

            “She’s your mother-in-law,” Vincent added.

            Aralyn looked closer at the woman and admitted that she had never thought of it that way. The woman’s eyes were closed, her hands folded over her heart. Her expression was anything but the calm that was said to accompany death; on the contrary, she looked mournful, as if she were besieged by nightmares.

            “Why do you come here if it hurts you so much?” she asked.

            Vincent gave a short, dry scoff. “For the same reason you still cling to Sephiroth, I suppose.”

            Aralyn winced, feeling as if a barb in her heart had been twisted. “I guess I can say I know how you feel, on some level. Loving someone…out of your reach. I want to see him too, even though---” she trailed off, looking to Vincent to finish for her.

            “In that, we are very similar.”

            Aralyn wished she could do something about the pain in his eyes.

“Can I ask you something, Vincent?” she ventured carefully.

            He nodded, his eyes not straying from Lucrecia.

            “Why are you so protective of me?”

            For the first time, his gaze turned away from the woman in crystal, and toward Aralyn. His single raised eyebrow asked her to elaborate.

            “I mean, I’m so grateful to you…I’ve never had anyone do that for me since…” she choked for a moment, but managed to calm herself. Vincent’s expression did not change. “Why? You’re risking so much for a fight that’s not yours.”

            Vincent turned back to Lucrecia. “Her,” he whispered.

            “I don’t understand…”

            “Sephiroth is her son, no matter how much he claims otherwise. It’s my way of repenting for my failure to protect her, by protecting him. I made that vow when Cloud first found me, to be something of a godfather, that I’d do all I could but…you know as well as I, he wasn’t going to change. So, I’m doing the next best thing.”

            Aralyn looked at him in confusion.

            “I’m protecting the woman he holds most dear.”

            “I could protest that,” she whispered. “He doesn’t care. He sent Kadaj to kill me.”

            “There’s a rift between the remnants,” Vincent stated.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Kadaj was not acting under Sephiroth’s orders when he hurt you.”

            Aralyn hesitated, mulling over this new thought. “But why? Kadaj is…his remnant. He was born from a part of him. All three of them were! It doesn’t make sense! They should be acting in tandem!”

            “And yet,” Vincent said, “they clearly are not.”

            Aralyn hesitated, mulling over the new thought.

            “Do you understand what that means, Aralyn?”

            “I don’t think---“ But Vincent knew she did.

            “If the dynamics between the remnants are changing, and they are reflections of him, would it be too much of a stretch to say that something is awakening within Sephiroth as well?”

            “I don’t believe it,” Aralyn said plainly. “I can’t. It’s not…not---”

            Vincent turned his gaze back to Lucrecia. “My apologies. I did not mean to upset you. Perhaps you are right. This is only my theory, after all.”

            Aralyn remained in silence for many long moments.

            “It’s not possible…is it, Vincent?”

            The gunman shook his head. “It is not my place to answer either way. I’ll only say that this wouldn’t be the first time that Sephiroth has broken the laws of what is and isn’t possible.”

            “Do you _believe_ it, then?”

            “It is irrelevant what I believe, Aralyn. What matters now is what _you_ will _do_.”

Aralyn moved closer to him, knelt at his side, and silently paid her respects to Lucrecia at Vincent’s side. After a length of time, she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. “Thank you, for being my friend. You’ve done so much for me.”

            Vincent froze in her grip, confused as to how to react. Aralyn held on for a little longer before releasing him.

            “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

            With that, she gave Vincent one last melancholy smile, then stood and left the cave. There was resolve in her eyes, but also great sorrow. Though she had said no such thing, Vincent felt as if she had really come to say goodbye.

            He began to worry about what she was up to, and why it could darken her eyes so deeply.

~*~*~*~


	49. Shame and Grief

## Chapter Forty-Nine: Shame and Grief

            _“You know, this really isn’t helping either of you, Seph.”_

_Sephiroth ignored Zack’s comment, still stroking Aralyn’s pale hand, carefully avoiding the IV._

_“Looming over her isn’t going to make her better,” Zack insisted. “And you don’t sleep as much as most people and you’re still ready to collapse!”_

_“I’m not leaving.”_

_Zack threw up his hands, wondering why he even tried. “Sephiroth, look. It’s a miracle you got out of trouble for going AWOL on the President, and I wouldn’t push your luck! Just go back, do a little work, and drop by afterward. She’s stable now and the doctors are doing all they can.”_

_“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, not taking his eyes from Aralyn’s form. She was laid out on a steel framed bed, her body nearly covered in bandages, red seeping through in some places. She was heavily reliant on the oxygen mask, her breathing slow and labored. Every once in a while, she would moan and toss, but she hadn’t opened her eyes as of yet, and it had been three days since the ordeal._

_“Not until she wakes,” he added, moving a strand of her hair from her eyes. Zack had never seen Sephiroth this gentle and sad._

_“Well, then I’ll go and think of some excuse to give to the President…and the Turks…” He started walking away when he heard Sephiroth’s voice._

_“You were right.”_

_Zack stopped, quite taken aback by the quiet admittance of defeat. “Well gee…thanks.” He ruffled the back of his hair in confusion. “But…about what, exactly?”_

_“I can’t live without her. If my mistake costs her life…I don’t know what I’ll do…”_

_“Hey,” Zack interrupted quickly. “She’s going to be fine. And as for you leaving her…I’m sure she’s already forgiven you.”_

_“She shouldn’t have stayed home. She should have gone to work as usual. None of this would have happened.”_

_“You tore her up, man! Give her some credit.”_

_“…I know…it’s my fault…”_

_“Oh, don’t start that again. I thought we went over this already. It’s done, over. Let it go.”_

_“Zack…” Sephiroth closed his eyes and paused for a long time, then tore his gaze from Aralyn and looked him sternly in the eye. It comforted Zack to know that his old commander was still in there somewhere. “I need to go to town today.”_

_“Sure,” Zack shrugged. “What do you need me to do?”_

_“I need something to distract Hojo. I don’t want the slightest possibility that he’ll be laying so much as a finger on her while I’m gone.”_

_Zack grinned, obviously already planning a devious scheme. “Done! Reno and I owe the old buzzard a visit!”_

_“Thank you. I’ll give you clearance to enter the chemical closet, if you should so desire.”_

_“You read my mind!” Zack’s smile faded. “By the way, what do you need in town?”_

_Sephiroth turned back to Aralyn. “Something to ensure that another misunderstanding about our relationship never happens again.” He gently leaned down and stroked her jaw before pulling himself up, his hand still lingering on her cheek. “I’ll be back,” he whispered to her. He hesitated, then kneeled down at her side again and pressed his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss. Aralyn seemed to smile, but she didn’t open her eyes._

_Tearing himself away from her, he finally followed Zack. “You’re not to tell her of that,” he said solemnly._

_Zack rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, General.”_

_~*~*~*~_


	50. The Ring

## Chapter Fifty: The Ring

_Zack returned when a nurse gave him word that Aralyn was awake. Her eyes were only half open as she drifted between dreams and reality. She gave him a weak smile when she saw him. “Hello,” she said in a voice quiet and hoarse from disuse._

_“Nice to see you awake,” Zack said, grinning at her. “You nearly gave Sephiroth a heart attack…maybe more literally than you know. He hasn’t left your side until now, but don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.”_

_Aralyn’s smile widened slightly and a little color seeped back into her pale cheeks. “He’s not…mad at me?”_

_“He’s infuriated, but with himself. He’s convinced that this is all his fault and this and that and…well, suffice to say he’s quite distraught.”_

_“He shouldn’t be,” Aralyn sighed softly, moving her hand so it lay across her stomach. “When will he be back?”_

_“Not long. He’s not the type to take extended shopping sprees.”_

_“Shopping?”_

_“Hey, don’t ask me.” Zack took a seat beside her bed and ruffled her hair. “How are you feeling, girl?”_

_“I feel all right.”_

_“You think you could walk out of this place?”_

_“No. As much as I’d like to…not yet. But could you help me sit up?” Zack helped to reposition the pillows and her body so she could sit easier. By the time she was sitting, she seemed to have shrugged off most of the drowsiness._

_“Zack?” Aralyn asked as he adjusted the pillows behind her. “I don’t remember it all that well, and it was hazy, so I don’t think I saw right.”_

_“I’m surprised you remember anything at all.” Zack examined her expression and asked, “What’s bothering you?”_

_“In the fires…was Sephiroth…” she almost whispered the next word, “…crying?”_

_Zack shook his head, chuckling. “Would it surprise you?”_

_“Over_ me _?”_

_“What else?”_

_Aralyn cringed. “It’s so…wrong. I---I did that to him.”_

_“Oh come on, Aralyn, now you’re getting as bad as he is,” Zack complained. “Come on, snap out of it. Why is it so hard for you two to smell the pheromones?”_

_Aralyn flushed at the expression. “I don’t think he thinks of me like that…”_

_“As if to prove my point!” Zack exclaimed. “Yes, he cried in the fires, and that wasn’t the last time he did that night. He was_ terrified _to_ _lose_ _you. You know of anything else that’s done that to him? The Wutai War? Losing half a battalion in a battle? Facing a summon unarmed? Can’t you see what you’ve done with him? You have his heart, girl, and the rest of the world doesn’t even think he has one!”_

_“But, the night of the dance, he said we were wrong to be together…he pushed me away…”_

_“His head is wacked. So is yours. Is it really that hard to see the difference between what he says and what he does?”_

_Aralyn looked unconvinced._

_“Do you love him?” Zack asked her._

_“Yes,” she said without hesitation._

_“Then, because Seph’s tongue tied, socially awkward, and otherwise handicapped in the ways of love, I’ll tell you what he can’t: he loves you. I swear on my honor it’s true.”_

_Aralyn fiddled with the sheets, twisting them in loops around her fingers._

_“Ask him,” Zack urged. “Ask if he loves you.”_

_“You’re awake,” a familiar voice breathed._

_Zack turned to find Sephiroth in the doorway, looking at Aralyn fervently. He walked forward, and then kneeled at her bedside. He opened his mouth to say something, but Aralyn pressed her finger to his lips. “No,” she said. “No apologies.”_

_He closed his eyes for a moment before he leaned closer, gently stroking her cheek. “I won’t speak them, but that doesn’t mean they are not there.”_

_Zack backed away, feeling like an intruder on this reunion. He moved behind Sephiroth and looked where a small box was held in his hand, carefully concealed from Aralyn’s view._

_The box was lined on the outside with dark blue silk, and looked very expensive. It was also small, fitting snugly in his palm with room to spare. Zack pondered on this, curious as to what had inspired Sephiroth’s impromptu trip to town._

_Zack nearly fainted from surprise as he realized what it was. Sephiroth had said that it would prevent another catastrophe like this one, and yet it had to be something tiny but very valuable…_

_Something very much like an engagement ring._

_~*~*~*~_


	51. Going Home

## Chapter Fifty-One: Going Home

Aralyn was singing a slow, mournful lament as she locked the door to her apartment behind her. The stinging air hit her forcefully, tiny ice crystals battering at her relentlessly. She’d had enough sense to purchase a long, thick coat that covered her head with a hood and fell to her ankles beforehand. The pockets were deep, but she could not bring anything but what she held most dear.

            Still singing, but more softly, she dropped both her only house key and the key to the Seventh Heaven on the mat of the door.

            “Cloud, Tifa,” she whispered, “forgive me…”

~*~*~*~

            Cloud, Yuffie, and Tifa gathered around one side of the small tables, crammed against each other out of both lack of room and necessity of comfort. At the empty half stood Reno and Rude, Reno casually shouldering his baton and Rude displaying his typical stoic look.

            “Aralyn did _what_?” Tifa asked, not for the first time after hearing the explanation.

            Reno sighed and tilted his head back. “ _Left_ , Tifa. Disappeared. Vanished. She’s _unaccounted for_.”

            “Where would she have gone?” Cloud was tense, his thoughts on the opportunity this provided for Kadaj. “And why?”

            “Hey, come on guys, you’re seriously under-reacting.” Reno added. Rude smacked his comrade on the arm as a clear warning to stop there.

            “Give us the story straight!” Yuffie yelled. “Stupid Turks! Do you have to complicate _everything_?”

            “You want it straight?” Reno asked, challenging them. “Fine. Here it is. Aralyn’s gone to Willow Dale.”

             Everyone was silent.

            “Wow, you handled that really well,” Reno commented, earning him another whack from his comrade, which he only narrowly managed to avoid.

            “What is Willow Dale?” Yuffie asked.

            Rude adjusted his dark glasses, seeming to be unsettled. “Vincent hasn’t told you? We assumed you knew.”

            “Vincent!” Tifa called loudly to the man upstairs. “Get down here, _now_!”

            Vincent took his sweet time, not aware of the turmoil downstairs. He met their accusing gazes with a level look, raising an eyebrow in a signal to explain.

            “We’re going after Aralyn,” Yuffie concluded, skipping to the point immediately.

            “Eh…not to discourage you or anything, but ah…how to put it?” Reno ventured carefully, “That wouldn’t be… _beneficial_ …to anyone. Least of all Aralyn.”

            “She’s gone?” Vincent asked, for the first time showing emotion. Tifa was startled to realize that it was fear.

            “Not for long!” Yuffie chirped. “The White Rose of Wutai is on the case!”

            Reno scoffed loudly, looking at Yuffie as if she were simply incompetent of rational thought. “Vincent, will you back me up here? Tell them Aralyn’s on a suicide mission anyway.”

            Vincent closed his eyes, his breath deepening significantly. “She went to Willow Dale?”

            “Yeah.”

            “…Then yes,” he said slowly, regretfully. “She would not go expecting to survive.”

            The empty, hollow feeling in the air was due to much more than the thick silence that followed.

            Cloud broke the tension when he felt that in one more second, something would give. “What is Willow Dale, Vincent?”

            “Willow Dale is…” He opened his eyes at last, and then looked down, his face still neutral. “The only real home she’s ever really had.”

            “So what’s the catch? Why is this a suicide mission?”

            Rude spoke next. “Vincent, you can’t hide this much longer.”

            Reno turned, gesturing for Rude to leave as well. “Your call, man. Good luck, you will need it.”

            Everyone turned to Vincent, looking at him intently, Yuffie with her hands on her hips. “Well tell us—“

            “No.”

            “Vincent, we’re trying to help!”

            “You can’t.”

            “You’d let her die?!”

            “It’s far too late.” His voice was darker than usual, his eyes burning.

             “Vincent, please…” Tifa pleaded.

            But he didn’t respond. Drawing Cerberus, he strode slowly and purposefully out the door.

            “Where will you go?” Cloud asked.

            Vincent stopped, holding the door open, but he hadn’t yet crossed the threshold. “The Forgotten City. Then…Willow Dale.”

            “Let us come!”

            “Do not follow,” he said fiercely. It was a warning, threat, and command. “This is not your fight.”

            With that, he left, the door slammed shut behind him by the strong wind.

~*~*~*~

            On her doorstep, Vincent found the keys Aralyn had left, along with a note, written in a sure and steady hand.

            _I’ve decided to believe it is possible. I have to try._

~*~*~*~


	52. Fearful Emblems

Chapter Fifty-Two: Fearful Emblems

            Vincent followed the familiar trail to the Forgotten City, hoping that Aralyn might have stopped there before venturing to Willow Dale. He knew that she only endured the pain of the memories this place held when necessary, but he guessed that if she were truly going to Willow Dale, she might return one last time.

            He quickened his pace when he entered the shade of the glittering white trees, not caring about the branches that snagged his cape and whipped his face and ankles. If he couldn’t catch her here, then chances were that he would never see her again. Pushing himself still faster, he finally broke through to the glade.

            The tree that Aralyn had so faithfully visited stood before him, the only vegetation beside the grass that grew inside the circle of bushes. The branches, besides being naturally white, were brighter still from the snow crystals that had accumulated on the branches. Under the umbrella of the branches, there was a circle where the withered winter grass peeked through, free of the snow, but not immune to the cold. It was in this area, beside one of the large roots, that he saw the defiled remains of Aralyn’s final gift.

            In numb shock, he gathered the red rosebud that had long since withered, its color having nearly bled completely out. He fingered the torn and scarred petals of what had once been the white rose. Now, what wasn’t covered in deep, poison black was gray and dead.

            It didn’t take him long to decipher what it was that Kadaj had meant him to see.

            Turning to the east, he took off at a dead run, tearing through anything that stood in his way like a madman. He only had the vaguest idea of where Willow Dale was, and he knew that precious time would be lost trying to find it…time that Aralyn didn’t have.

The only hope he had on his entire venture to Willow Dale was that perhaps Kadaj was just trying to scare him, or drive him to do something rash.

            But he knew, though he tried to deny it, that Kadaj was planning to do exactly as Vincent feared.

~*~*~*~


	53. Change of Intent

Chapter Fifty-Three: Change of Intent

            Business went on at the Seventh Heaven, though the number of customers was down significantly. Perhaps they had sensed the despair and loss that loomed over all of the employees. Life became dull, mechanical, held together only by the hope that perhaps Vincent could find her.

            Marlene’s protests rang through the diner. She insisted that the door should remain unlocked at night, and that Vincent and Aralyn would be home at any second. Tifa sadly denied the child her request every evening, though the girl never stopped fighting. No one tried to stop her. Denzel kept vigil through his bedroom window until he slumped over, too exhausted to remain awake.

            The adults envied the children’s stubborn hope.

            It was the second night since Aralyn’s departure, and Tifa was collapsing in a chair after nearly an hour of assuring Marlene into a fitful sleep. Cloud sensed her fatigue and sat down beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

            “I’ll close up shop tonight,” he offered.

            “Not on your own you won’t.” And she stood and started down the stairs.

            When the pair reached the bottom floor, they noticed that the lights had been turned off. Neither of them was able to truthfully confess to the deed.

            “Where is Aralyn?” a smooth, dark voice rang through the darkness.

            Tifa listened hard and realized that it was quiet…too quiet. There were no sounds coming from the children’s room.

            “I do not wish to kill this child,” the figure said, as if reading her mind. “Where is Aralyn?” Tifa heard Marlene give a frightened whimper before it was abruptly cut off.

            Cloud turned the lights on and drew his sword simultaneously, the sound of metal ringing far. Yazoo was in the corner, pressing his gunblade to Marlene’s throat. “Please don’t make me harm her.”

            Tifa wasn’t sure whether she should be frightened or relieved that the silver haired remnant sounded sincere when he said that.

            “Give her back,” Cloud demanded.

            “I have nothing to lose,” Yazoo said blandly, clearly not affected by the threat. “I’ll ask only once more.” He pulled back further. “I truly don’t want to hurt her,” Yazoo pleaded, “but I don’t know any other way to get a legitimate response.”

            Cloud was confused, but hid it behind a tense, stoic mask. “Really?” he asked, mockingly. “The lives of children have always been your highest priority, after all.” There was no humor or sarcasm in his tone, but irony was laid thickly in his eyes.

            Yazoo looked truly grieved as he began to drag the blade across her arm. Then, slowly, but without hesitation, he let it glide, much harder, across his own.

            “Let her go!” Tifa pleaded, reaching forward in an attempt to grab the little girl.

            Yazoo leapt back and positioned the now crimson blade at the girl’s neck again, then his eyes closed and his hand quivered with the thought of what he was about to do.

            “Please,” Tifa breathed. “Don’t do this…”

            Yazoo brought the blade up so it rested beneath her chin and took a deep breath…

            …And threw the weapon to the ground.

            Marlene ran to Tifa, grasping her tightly as she shook, stifling her frantic breathing in her skirt. Tifa knelt and gently soothed the girl, her hands moving to tend to her wound.

            Yazoo turned to leave, the expression on his face numb and disbelieving. 

            “Wait!” Tifa called after him. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Aralyn…she went to Willow Dale.”

            “Tifa,” Cloud warned.

            But it was too late to take back what she had said. Yazoo whirled around violently, his eyes flaring dangerously. “You lie!” he hissed, his tone accusing.

            “Why would she lie?” Cloud said, moving in front of the women in case Yazoo showed any violence.

            “What is it?” Tifa cut across, moving Cloud aside so she could meet the remnant’s green, catlike eyes. “ _Where_ is it? Why is it so frightening?”

            “She can’t have…” Yazoo breathed, seeming not to have heard her. “She couldn’t…she _wouldn’t_ …” His eyes drifted closed, and he stood stiff and silent for a long time.

            When he regained mobility, it was to walk out the door. “No one knows where Willow Dale is,” he said without pausing his slow, deliberate exit. Then, so softly that they could barely hear, he added, “And, in Aralyn’s case, the danger is that it still exists.”

~*~*~*~


	54. The Proposal

## Chapter Fifty-Four: The Proposal

            _Aralyn tried to move to shake the sleep from her limbs, but something was holding her firmly. She panicked and tried to fight back as she felt a needle sinking into her arm, but the embrace tightened, and familiar fingers were gently stroking her hand._

_“That should do it,” a voice she recognized as one of the nurse’s sounded fuzzy in her ears. “She’s set to go.”_

_“Thank you.” Sephiroth sounded as calm as always, but his grip that nearly cut off her circulation told her that he was anything but all right. “Aralyn,” he asked gently. “Can you hear me?”_

_His grip on her loosened as she nodded her affirmation, and she thought she heard him quietly sigh in relief._

_“Does anything hurt, sweetie?” the nurse asked._

_She shook her head, daring to open her eyes a little. She hurt everywhere, but she didn’t want the painkillers dulling the feeling of his hand on hers. His bright green eyes were the first thing she saw, and he smiled softly in greeting._

_“All right,” the nurse said, pursing her lips in disapproval. “Take it easy.” She eased the IV needles out of her arm, gently rubbing some of the soreness away. Nodding curtly, she began to walk away purposefully._

_“Aralyn,” Sephiroth said after the nurse had gone. “Will you walk with me?”_

_“I can’t walk. Remember what happened when I tried yesterday?”_

_Sephiroth put his arms around her and hoisted her from the bed. “Then I will carry you.” He held her bridal style. “Does this hurt?” he asked, concerned._

_Aralyn knew she should probably protest, but she also knew that he wouldn’t take excuses, and she was quite comfortable…perhaps too comfortable, considering how close she was to him. She shook her head, he nodded his approval, and he began the walk._

_Sephiroth stopped at her apartment, setting her on the couch while he went and retrieved her thick winter cloak and a few spare blankets. Gently, he eased her weak arms into the sleeves, even though she was sure she had enough stamina to accomplish that at least. He was fully concentrated on his task, and so he wasn’t aware of how dark her cheeks were turning._

_She tried to stand on her own, and Sephiroth was there to catch her before she’d fallen. He shook his head and repositioned her in his arms, tightening his grip to assure her that she wasn’t getting out. He smiled slyly at her as she gave a mock scowl._

_They went outdoors in a comfortable, contented silence, the night serene, hushed with a blanket of new snow. She didn’t know where he was taking her; only that it was far from the prison they had both grown up in._

            _She thought she could handle the fatigue that hadn’t abated since her ordeal, but it wasn’t long before the warmth and the gentle rocking of Sephiroth’s strides lulled her into a daze. He noticed this and laughed softly._

_When she awakened, she was in a clearing in the Forgotten City, the trademark white trees surrounding this small haven with a soft, pure light. Sephiroth was sitting against the trunk of one of these trees that was growing in the center of the clearing, Aralyn still cradled against him, her head resting on his chest._

_She flushed crimson, embarrassed both for falling asleep and by the nearness to him. He replied with a small, contented smile. She turned away, feeling her heart beat fast, and climbed reluctantly out of his embrace. She sat beside him instead._

_“How long have I been asleep?”_

_“Hm?” He brushed her unruly bangs out of her eyes with the tips of his fingers. She shivered at his touch and he, mistaking it for the cold, wrapped her in yet another blanket. “I didn’t keep track,” he finally admitted._

_“You could have woken me.”_

_“But you looked so peaceful,” he argued. He paused, then continued, solemnly, “You were calling my name in your sleep.” She tried to turn away but he put a hand on the side of her face to stop her. “What was it you saw?”_

_“Ah…” she sighed. “It’s not…not important.” She smiled nervously and fingered the rainbow pendant around her neck. “Why did you bring me here? I mean…it’s beautiful but…why?”_

_“To,” he hesitated a moment, seeming to consider his next words carefully, “ask you something.”_

_“Why not back at Shinra, Sephiroth? I still don’t understand!”_

_He turned his gaze away, the corner of his lip dipping down. She didn’t know what to make of his hesitation, but she seized the opportunity, speaking before her courage deserted her._

_“Sephiroth, can I ask you something first?”_

_He turned to her, giving her his full attention._

_“Sephiroth, do you…love me?”_

_He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath in and then out. He pulled away from her, and she cried in alarm, afraid to have offended him. Hushing her, he pulled her up so they stood, gazing into each other’s eyes. He folded both of her hands in his, entwined their fingers, and brought them to his lips._

_“Aralyn, I brought you here to ask you something of a similar nature. Shinra…wasn’t the right place to discuss this.”_

_Aralyn’s heart was in her throat. He laid his forehead on their clasped hands._

_“Aralyn, I know I am not…fluent, in expressing my affections. For this, you have suffered, and I am sorry for it._

_“But…”_

_He hesitated, gazing at her intently, and squeezed her hands tightly. She could feel his hands quiver as he summoned his courage._

_Ever so slowly, he lowered himself until he was kneeling on one knee in the snow._

_“Would you…_ could _you…ever look past that, and all my thousand other flaws…”_

_Having found his strength at last, he met her eyes, his gaze gentle._

_“…enough to share your life with me?”_

_“Sephiroth--!” Aralyn breathed. “Are you asking--?”_

_“Yes, Aralyn,” he clutched her hands all the tighter. “I am asking if you will marry me.”_

_“Yes,” she whispered, tears of joy flowing from her eyes. “Sephiroth…I will!”_

_Sephiroth began to breathe again, a warm smile spreading across his face. Aralyn spread her hand against his palm so he could slide a gold ring on her finger, and then he enfolded her hands in his again. Only when he had pulled her into him did he let her hands go so he could tenderly cup her blushing face in his palms. With a rush of wind, he unfurled his majestic wing, surrounding both of them in its dark plumage as they embraced._

_He brushed his lips against hers, wiping her tears away with his thumb. His eyes alight with the purest passion, he whispered “Aralyn, I love you.” And then, at long last, they shared their first kiss._

_~*~*~*~_


	55. Little Whispers

Chapter Fifty-Five: Little Whispers

            Aralyn was still walking at sunset, the promising weight of the bedroll and small tent she had brought appealing to her weary body, but not her determined mind. She adjusted the small pack on her back so that the frayed straps didn’t dig so much into her shoulder. She was grateful for the cold that was numbing her slowly, but she pulled her coat closer so she wouldn’t freeze.

            This place had changed since she had been here last. The village of Nibelheim looked as it always did: small, quaint little homes bunched close together nestled at the entrance of the narrow mountain pass. She saw the sign of the inn, and the familiar gate of Shinra Manor, its windows dark with age and dangerous secrets. Shinra had rebuilt the town from the ashes, to hide what had been done here, but nothing Shinra could do would erase the pall that remained. It felt like a haunted town, with the citizens only going on in some pretense of everyday life.

            She passed through the town quickly, without meeting anyone’s eyes, trying not to think about what had happened here those long years ago.

            Even though she was determined not to stop, fatigue eventually drew her to her knees, her breathing coming much harder than it should have. Hating herself for the delay, she still surrendered, reasoning that surely an hour of rest wouldn’t hurt. She laid out the bedroll where she was and crawled under the blanket, turning her face to the stars.

            She curled up, suddenly recognizing the shortness of breath as only the first of the symptoms. She shouldn’t have lain down, she realized. She should have pressed on…fought as long as she could…

            Something dark passed above her in the sky, hiding the stars as it passed. A black feather fell beside her.

            _It’s just a crow…just a crow…it couldn’t be him…_

            Whatever it was, it didn’t come to her aid as the sickness ravaged her body yet again, leaving her to suffer alone in the dark.

            She saw a light, warm and soothing, that flooded her vision. Confused, she tried to speak, but couldn’t. She felt like she was in water. Waves flowed over her body, washing away the pain and renewing her strength. She began to breathe again, and the air was sweet and fragrant.

            _“Just a little longer,”_ a woman’s voice consoled. Cool, healing hands were on her forehead. _“I promise, just hang on, okay?”_

She wasn’t conscious long enough to identify the owner of the voice, but her sleep was peaceful.

~*~*~*~

            Cloud sat at one of the tables, taking a passing glance at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning, and Marlene was still crying, frightened from nightmares of horrors that she didn’t dare to voice aloud. “Aralyn,” the little girl called, still in her half dream state. Tifa hushed the girl as best she could, but was ultimately powerless.

            She wasn’t the only one plagued with visions of what might have been. Cloud had been up since midnight himself, and by the circles under her eyes, he assumed that Tifa had been similarly affected. Even Yuffie had lost her bounce.

            _“Cloud?”_

Cloud raised his head, not realizing that it had fallen, and got to his feet. Climbing the stairs, he entered Marlene’s room and looked to Tifa. “Did you call me?”

            Tifa looked away from the child’s troubled face and met his gaze. “No,” she said, confused. “Did you hear something?”

            Cloud nodded and turned away. “Probably just hallucinating; we’re all tired.”

            When he was alone downstairs, the voice called again. _“Cloud?”_

Cloud was shocked into speaking aloud. “Aerith?”

~*~*~*~

            “ _Willow Dale?_ ” Kadaj asked, disbelieving. His expression soon turned from inquisitive to threatening. “If you are lying about this, I swear you will die here and now.”

            “That’s what’s got Cloud and the others so worked up,” Verian replied. “And Vincent’s supposedly gone to stop her.”        

            “Ha!” Kadaj scoffed, laughing subtly. “As if there’s a man alive that could accomplish that. Let him try, he won’t get far anyways. He has no directions and no way to get them.”

            “I suppose you know where this Willow Dale is, then?”

            Kadaj’s gaze darkened and turned hard and cold. “I am in the service of the only man in existence who can pinpoint it exactly, and yet it does me no good!”

            “Can we get it from _him_?” Verian ventured.

            Kadaj began to pace. “To even say that blasted girl’s name is treason. To inquire into their private lives…unthinkable.” He stopped abruptly, looking at the moon as a cruel smile crept across his face.

            “But…I think I know of a way that we can use this little setback to our advantage…”

            Verian, who had long since gotten used to the inhuman malice in his fellow conspirator, was suddenly reminded that he knew nothing about the lengths Kadaj would go to in order to see his revenge through.

~*~*~*~


	56. Wedding Arrangements

Chapter Fifty-Six: Wedding Arrangements

            _Zack knew that Sephiroth had proposed without even seeing the ring. There was a light in Aralyn’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, and more than once she was caught singing happily and having a slight bounce in her step for no apparent reason. Several times her boss scolded her for her carelessness, but she took the criticism gracefully, unable to be daunted._

_Sephiroth was often missing from his office during lunch hour, his aura significantly lighter though he continued his respected role as a stern and distant commander._

_“What a woman!” Zack laughed when Sephiroth officially told him of her acceptance. “To have domesticated the mighty Sephiroth!”_

            _Sephiroth smiled lightly, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere._

_“I’m happy for you, Seph.” Zack clapped his friend on the shoulder. “She’s got a heart of gold…and she’s not half bad on the eyes, either.”_

_Sephiroth eyed him darkly, making sure that he was, in no way, suggesting that she was merely mediocre. Zack smiled to reassure him that no insult had been intended. He lightened a bit. “Yes. She is…more than I ever could have dreamed of.” It was strange to hear the stern General speak so fondly and lovingly._

_“So,” Zack said, his tone chipper. “When’s the day?”_

_Sephiroth looked suspiciously at his comrade. “We are keeping this small, Zack. Word of this is not to leak out.”_

_“Of course,” Zack said, acting like his pride had been hurt. “How could you doubt me?”_

_Sephiroth shook his head. “Within the week.”_

_“So soon?” Zack asked, stunned. He had been expecting it to be longer. “Shouldn’t you wait a little longer, just to be…you know…sure that this is really what you both want?”_

_“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life, Zack. To wait longer would be useless and bothersome.”_

_“Well, whatever you say,” Zack shrugged and grinned. “Any extensive planning been done yet?” he asked, taking the conversation to a lighter note._

_“Aralyn is being fitted for a dress today. Is that what you mean?”_

_“Well, I guess.” Zack thought a moment, and then prompted him further. “I know the guest list is kind of short, but is there any chance that I might be on it?”_

_Sephiroth tilted his head in thought. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt as long as no one tags along.”_

_“Yes!” Zack shouted triumphantly, throwing a punch into the air. “I was hoping you’d say that! Now I don’t have to crash your party. How many others will be there?”_

_“You, the preacher, me and Aralyn.”_

_“Four? At such a grand event? You should bring in hordes of girls to fawn over Aralyn’s hair and makeup and cry over the best guy in Gaia being taken! You could invite your fellow Soldiers, and maybe even a few Turks. Heck, all of Shinra would come if you wanted to!”_

_“Absolutely not!” Sephiroth said harshly. “No one, and I mean not a living, breathing soul, is to know of this!”_

_Zack looked at Sephiroth, taken aback. “Seph? What have you got against a party? This is going to be the most important day of both of your lives, and you want to spend it alone?”_

_“Not alone,” the General insisted. “With Aralyn.” He continued. “Neither of us have family, and aside from you, any friends.”_

_“Not even Reno?” Zack said sarcastically. “You could probably even get him to sing if you paid him enough or threatened him with Mako cleanup duty.”_

_Sephiroth’s silence said his answer clearer than words._

_“All right, but let me do something for the two of you. How about flowers? Can I bring those, at least?”_

_Sephiroth thought a moment. “Red and white roses,” he said. “They are significant to the both of us.”_

_“Done!” Zack said. “And I won’t ask why…yet. I’m sure it’s a fascinating story.”_

_Sephiroth smiled and laughed softly, his eyes hazy in memory. “I suppose it is.”_

_“Well then,” Zack said, turning to exit. “I will see you at the wedding, armed with a camera and lots of film. I hereby appoint myself as the official photographer!”_

~*~*~*~


	57. The Vow

Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Vow

            _Sephiroth was quiet on the way to the chapel, his mind clearly elsewhere. Zack had to jostle him once or twice so he could keep his eye on the road. He’d never seen the General so distracted; usually he was dead focused on the task at hand._

_But he’d never had a task like this before._

_True to their wishes, the chapel was small, barely suited to seat fifty. The road to it hadn’t been paved, and was surrounded by lush greenery. When they stopped beside the building, Sephiroth pulled the key from the engine and sighed deeply, laying his head on the wheel and not moving. For several moments, all that could be heard was the slight breeze in the trees._

_“Are you ready for this?”_

_Sephiroth raised his head, smiling, and Zack knew that he was._

~*~*~*~

_Aralyn stood behind the doors, twisting a white handkerchief in her hands. They were sweating, and it was beginning to show on the cloth. Discarding it with a frustrated sigh, she turned to pacing in little circles, but had to stop when she tripped on the hem of her dress. Silently, but still fidgeting, she stood behind the doors and waited._

_She wasn’t entirely sure what she was waiting for. Music? A knock? She began to worry that she’d enter early, and then she began to panic as the thought crossed her mind that she’d be late. She pushed the door open, only to come face to face with Zack._

_She jumped back, but he caught her hand before she could fall any further. “On edge?” he asked, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, he is too.”_

_“Am I late?” she asked, horrified._

_“No, no.” He straightened her lacy veil that had been jostled during her fall. “We were talking on the way here, though. Typically, the bride’s father walks her down the aisle, you know.”_

_“Yeah,” she said skeptically. “What of it? I’m not normal in any other way, why should my wedding be any different?”_

_“He gave me permission,” Zack said, “to accompany you, only if you’d like. If not, which is totally all right,” he handed her a large bouquet of red and white roses and clapped her softly on the shoulder. “He’s ready for you.”_

_Aralyn threaded her arm through Zack’s, then stepped forward as he threw the doors open._

~*~*~*~

_Sephiroth turned as he heard the doors open, feeling his breath catch in his throat. Aralyn stood at the end of the room, past the empty rows of seats, dressed in white, the red roses held against her heart standing out even at this distance. The crimson ribbon, which hung from the bouquet, dangled all the way down to her feet and swayed gently as she moved steadily forward._

_Zack brought her to the steps and then let her walk up to Sephiroth. Zack smiled at his commander, gave a two-fingered salute and turned to take his place in the seat closest to the couple. Sephiroth nodded in gratitude, but turned his gaze to his bride._

_He put his hands on her silk covered forearms and slid his fingers down her arms until they intertwined with hers. He leaned closer, whispering softly in her ear. “Do you want this, Aralyn?”_

_She looked up at him, her eyes sparking through the veil. His heart stopped as he saw the tears flow from her eyes. “I…Aralyn if you don’t…” He stammered._

_“No,” she breathed. “No…I’ve never been so happy in my life.” He knew that she couldn’t be lying, not when her eyes were shining like that._

_“Dearly beloved…” the small, elderly priest began._

_Sephiroth and Aralyn did not look away from each other throughout the entire ceremony, and lost track of time. When Sephiroth’s vow was called for, he did not respond, still spellbound. Taking this as a bad omen, the priest began to shut the book from which he read and Zack stood up abruptly, shock written clearly on his features._

_“No!” Sephiroth called, suddenly understanding. “No, Aralyn, I do…with everything I am…I do.” He clenched her hands and closed her eyes, ashamed, and pleading for her to understand._

_“Then Aralyn,_ _do you take Sephiroth to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"_

_“No,” she said, more to Sephiroth than to the preacher. “For much, much longer than that…I do.” She smiled at him as he opened his eyes in relief._

_“Then, by the powers vested in me I pronounce you man and wife. General Sephiroth, you may kiss the bride.”_

_Sephiroth pulled her close to him and embraced her tightly. “My angel,” he whispered as he lifted her veil, before he let his lips touch hers once again._

~*~*~*~


	58. Riddles

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Riddles

            “Aerith?”

            A soft, feminine laugh rang in his ears, and he felt fingers brush his shoulders. _“Hey, Cloud,”_ Aerith said _. “Been a while?”_

            Cloud reached up to place a hand on where he felt hers, but it passed through only air. “Too long,” he said.

            _“Don’t you get depressed on me,”_ she scolded kindly. _“Or I’ll leave.”_ He couldn’t tell if the threat was idle or not. She laughed again, the sound like bell tones through crisp air, to assure him that she was not angry.

            “Aerith,” he asked. “What do you know about this?”

            _“So curt? Can’t I have a decent greeting?”_ She stopped when he lowered his head. _“This is troubling you, I am sorry.”_

“No, I was rude, I’m—“

            _“Ask me anything,”_ she interrupted. _“And I’ll do my best to help.”_

“Where is Willow Dale, then?”

            _“You plan on aiding Aralyn?”_ Her voice turned sad. _“It will cause you so much pain…”_

            “Vincent has gone,” Cloud defended himself.

            _“Vincent made his choice. You have to make your own. You can still spare yourself the danger. You don’t have to be drawn into this.”_

“I don’t believe that. We are already too far into it to go back.”

            She hesitated before she spoke again. _“Willow Dale is nestled between the mountains and the sea, hidden so well from the world that it is near impossible to find it without the aid of one who has been there.”_

“Can I find someone, then?”

            _“You can,”_ she said. _“But unless it is Aralyn…I fear you would not agree to travel alongside him. I will show you, and guide you.”_

“Have you been there?”

            _“No, but Zack has.”_

“Then one more question.”

            _“Anything.”_

“Who is Aralyn?”

            Aerith hesitated and withdrew her hand from his body. _“Anything but that, Cloud.”_

“Why not?” Cloud burst out, suddenly angry. He turned, letting his rage control him, to see her backed away, her hands folded neatly over her pink dress and her long, brunette braid thrown over one shoulder. “Why won’t anyone talk about it? Can it be so horrible?”

            _“Oh, Cloud…I am sorry, but I have to agree with Vincent on this. You can’t know. You couldn’t take it.”_

“Why? Tell me that, at least?”

            _“Cloud, I know you are angry but please believe me…she has hurt so much, and having her friends turn against her would be another blow that I fear she couldn’t take.”_

“Turn against her? Why would we do that?” Cloud said, his volume more tame but his tone still icy.

            _“I am glad your friendship with her stands so firm. Please…keep it that way. She needs your acceptance more than you need the truth. I’m so sorry.”_

            “Aerith…”

            But she disappeared, smiling at him sadly one last time. _“You will see.”_ He heard her voice echo. _“Everything will work out.”_

~*~*~*~


	59. Willow Dale

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Willow Dale

            _Aralyn hadn’t been sure what Sephiroth had meant by, “Away from Shinra,” when she had inquired about where they would live. She assumed that after the marriage they would simply room together so they could both work, but Sephiroth had smiled mischievously and refused to say any more._

_Zack was driving the vehicle so that Sephiroth could concentrate more on his bride. She sat on his lap, her dress taking up the two unoccupied seats that were next to them._

_“Hey, Seph, keep a cap on the mushy!” Zack complained, not for the first time. It was only half playful. Aralyn turned up to find that he had bent down to kiss her and this had triggered Zack’s complaint. Sephiroth frowned, unhappy to be interrupted, but Aralyn wiped the frown off his face as she reached up and kissed him._

_“Not you too…” Zack groaned._

_Maybe she was imagining things, but she thought that Sephiroth elongated the kiss a little longer than usual. Zack didn’t care for too much longer because a car had cut him off and ignited his very vocally oriented road rage._

_Aralyn and Sephiroth found that it was hard to be romantic with Zack spewing insults and ramming on the horn. Thankfully, this ended ten miles later when the offending car took a turn off the highway._

_“Yeah, you better get outta here!” Zack bellowed at the retreating vehicle. Calming a bit and relaxing in his seat, he then addressed Sephiroth. “So where are we headed again?”_

_“You are the worst chauffeur in the world, Zack.”_

_“You get what you pay for!”_

_“I did pay you,” Sephiroth interjected. “With an invitation.”_

_“Whatever. Mind if I dull the sappy by turning on a little music?” He didn’t wait for a consent, and hit the switch. A slow, melodic love song first greeted them, sung by a very gentle-voiced female. Sephiroth held Aralyn closer, brushing her cheek, becoming more romantic with the music just to spite Zack. Grimacing, Zack changed the channel to be met each time with either a love song or a very romantic instrumental. The one time he did manage to find a fast-beat song, the lyrics had been very romantic._

_“Why must everything be perfect for you two?” Zack groaned. He banged his head on the horn in time with his repeated phrase. “Why? Why?”_

_Aralyn’s head was buried in Sephiroth’s chest, her shoulders shaking with hidden laughs._

_“That’s the turn!” Sephiroth said urgently as a large, yellow road sign proclaimed the exit. Zack watched it go by, staring at it as if dazed._

_“Zack!” Sephiroth shouted, reaching forward as if to both seize the wheel and strangle the driver._

_Finally, the lights in Zack’s head went on and he promptly preformed a sharp u-turn while somehow managing to stay in the same lane. After they could see again after the whiplash, they came face to face with the headlights of a semi-truck. Aralyn screamed and clutched her husband, but Zack veered sharply to the right, driving over the grassy shoulder that separated their lane from the exit._

_After their speed had regulated, which was several minutes, Sephiroth stated, very calmly, “Zack, I am going to kill you.”_

_Zack laughed nervously. “Oh, look, Seph! There’s a nice cop with its lights on…oh wait…crap!”_

~*~*~*~

_Zack was oddly silent after his long discussion with the highway patrol officer. The ticket, demanding a sizeable portion of his monthly pay, sat on the dashboard. Zack frowned and glared at it as if it were a loathsome monster._

_“Here?” Zack finally inquired after pulling aside at the entrance to a thick forest._

_“We can’t drive any further, there’s no trail,” was Sephiroth’s reply._

_“All right then, get outta my car.”_

_Sephiroth scooted Aralyn off his lap and then exited first, reaching back to help her out. Aralyn looked around. They were at the base of a mountain range, the foothills rolling before her and gentling the line of the horizon. Beyond the peaks themselves, Aralyn thought she could see the glimmer of the ocean._

_“Our home?” she asked, breathless at the sight of the marvelous scenery._

_“Not here,” Sephiroth clarified. “A little ways off. I thought you might like a house but if you like this better…”_

_Aralyn shook her head and followed his lead._

_The forest was thick, but they weren’t in it for more than an hour. Sephiroth skillfully navigated, seeming to know the way very well. Aralyn held his hand and stayed at his side while Zack followed, both glad for the guidance through the natural maze. Once they broke through the trees, Sephiroth called them to a stop._

_“Aralyn shouldn’t be hiking in that,” Zack said, gesturing to her long gown._

_Aralyn disagreed. The only alternative was being carried, and she didn’t want to be a burden. Besides, she was proud of how well she had kept the hem from the dirt below._

_“We won’t have to hike every day,” Sephiroth promised. “Most days,” he continued, whispering in her ear, “I can fly you here.” He smiled at her, seeing how much that enthralled her. “But I’d rather not fly with Zack, if you know what I mean.”_

_Aralyn laughed, unable to suppress the comical image from entering her mind, complete with sounds of Zack squealing “Wheeeeeeee!” Zack looked up, his cheeks full of water from the canteen, confused, but seeming to know that they were laughing at his expense._

_They began the hike again; Sephiroth and Aralyn hand in hand with Zack loitering behind. As the sun began to set, Sephiroth covered her eyes and scooped her up. “Soon,” he promised her. “We’ll be home.”_

_She was almost lulled to sleep by his smooth strides, but he gently jostled her awake. “Look,” he said at last._

_He lifted his hand from her eyes and set her on her feet. They stood on the top of one of the taller foothills, the proud mountains running behind her. She had been right about the ocean; it stretched out before her in an endless blue expanse, sparkling with the fading rays of the sun. The sky was painted with lavender and pink against the dark night sky. Aralyn stood unable to speak for several moments, swept away by the beauty surrounding her._

_“There,” Sephiroth said, pointing eastward. He was directing her gaze to a home. She couldn’t see much from this distance, but she loved it at her first glance._

_“Willow Dale,” she said, taking Sephiroth’s hand again. “That’s what we’ll call this place.”_

_He smiled and pulled her in closer to him. “Willow Dale it is.”_

_It was a new home, a new beginning of their life together. Though the sun was setting, it was the dawn of their lives._

~*~*~*~


	60. Illness

Chapter Sixty: Illness

_The first months of their marriage had passed in bliss. Aralyn leapt on the opportunity to make Willow Dale from a house into a home, and Sephiroth, while he didn’t share her zeal for painting, was more than willing to work beside her on projects that required more strength. Sometimes, however, he would paint and decorate alongside her, if only to be with his new bride._

_The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was two floors, and more than Aralyn could have dreamed of, especially as a newlywed. The outside paint had originally been a light chocolate brown, but Aralyn had painted it a subtle off-white and Sephiroth had helped to add some stonework. Aralyn had taken great care to nurse a young garden from the otherwise flat landscape._

_Both looked forward to the retreat to their haven after work, but it seemed that Aralyn had to return a little more than usual._

_Sephiroth first got a call from Zack in the middle of a meeting. Assuming it was something trivial and annoyed that he would have the audacity to interrupt such a vital meeting, he snapped at his junior over the speakerphone. Zack had stuttered, unwilling to reveal the cause of his calling in front of the board of directors at Shinra._

_“Uh…Seph…your uh…a friend…I mean…one of our men…yeah! That sounds good. One of our men is really hurt and uh…needs you…like_ right now _.”_

_Sephiroth played along because somewhere along the line he had figured that this “man” who he was referring to was Aralyn._

_Zack had transported her to the couch in his apartment and covered her with blankets, a large glass of water within her easy reach. “She was fine one moment, then she just doubled over,” Zack explained as he led him to her. “She was awfully pale, she’s a little better now but still…she scared me pretty bad.”_

_Sephiroth removed his glove as he knelt beside her, placing his hand on her forehead. “Aralyn,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”_

_“Ah…Seph,” she breathed, opening her eyes. “Just a little…tired, I guess. I want to go back to work.”_

_“What happened?”_

_“I don’t know. I just felt…drained, and I got really dizzy.”_

_Sephiroth frowned, but helped her to her feet at her adamant request._

_The next morning, he awoke to find that Aralyn was not beside him. Worried, he wandered the house until he found her lying on the floor of the bathroom, too weak to move._

_He laid her in bed and pulled the covers around her, this time paying more attention to her pulse, her breathing, and the color of her skin. While he carefully examined her, he rubbed her back firmly but gently, an action that he found never failed to soothe her._

_“You gotta work…” she rasped through dry lips._

_“No.” He went briefly into the other room, changing out of his black leather and silver pauldrons and into more casual clothes. This being done, he sat down on the bed and continued his vigil, helping her to sip water and medicines between the frequent naps she took._

_She went back to Shinra the next day, but he hadn’t been there an hour when another call from Zack came._

_“I’m really worried, Seph,” he said as he lifted her into the car and handed Sephiroth the keys. “This isn’t just a stomach flu.”_

_“She needs to see a doctor.” Sephiroth agreed._

_She slept the entire day, only waking to rush to the bathroom to be violently sick._

_At four-thirty in the morning, Sephiroth was called in for an urgent mission. He cursed the timing, but could do nothing. Not wanting to wake her, he wrote a note and left it where she wouldn’t have to move to see it. He kissed her gently on her forehead and silently left, calling Zack to come in and keep an eye on her._

_When he got home, Aralyn was standing in the doorway, waiting for him._

_“You’re up,” he said, embracing her warmly for several minutes. “You had me worried.”_

_Aralyn didn’t respond, but smiled cunningly and pulled away, fingering his bangs._

_“What’s on your mind?” Sephiroth asked, knowing that shining look in her eyes to be the presence of a secret._

_“Sephiroth,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Unable to hold it any longer, she smiled brightly and began to laugh. “Oh Sephiroth, I found out why I’m sick!”_

_Sephiroth wasn’t sure why she was so happy, but smiled and played along. “That’s…wonderful,” he said, not wanting to ruin her mood._

_Unexpectedly, she kissed him long and hard. When she pulled away, she graced him with the secret._

_“Sephiroth, I’m pregnant.”_

~*~*~*~


	61. The Catalyst

Chapter Sixty-One: The Catalyst

            When Tifa came back downstairs, she found Cloud with his head in his hands, obviously distressed. “What happened?” she asked, worriedly.

            “Aerith came,” he said simply.

            Tifa wasn’t as surprised as Cloud thought she should have been. “She’s always watching over us. Why are you so worried?”

            “I’m worried about what she said.”

Tifa joined him at the table and listened silently as Cloud repeated his conversation with the flower girl.

            “I’m sure there is a good reason for what she’s doing,” Tifa said when he had finished. All the same, she sounded a little unsure. “But you’re going to Willow Dale, regardless of what you’ve heard?”

            “I can’t rest until this is settled. I don’t think any of us can.”

            Tifa paused for a long time. “We’ll go with you.”

            Cloud shook his head. “If this is as awful as it’s said to be I don’t want—“

            “That’s exactly why we’ll go! All of us! Avalanche. As a team, just like before.”

            “You’re speaking for others,” Cloud reminded her. “Cid, Barret, and even—no, _especially_ Yuffie—probably have better things to do.”

            “Better than to save Aralyn?” Tifa said, always the voice of reason. “I’m calling the others.”

            Cloud could have sworn he saw a streak of silver run past the door, but when he turned to investigate, it was gone.

~*~*~*~

            Verian ran down the streets, his orders clear in his mind. In the last few days, it had almost been as if the fates were helping them to succeed. Things that might have been obstacles magically fell into place.

            Vincent was searching for Aralyn and as such, would lead them right to Willow Dale. Yazoo had been pushed to the brink by Kadaj and with any luck, would act as the catalyst that they so desperately needed. Sephiroth was ignorant of the scheme. There was only one simple sentence he had to deliver to Avalanche to connect all the events.

            With a few meager words, a convergence would be set into motion that would put the last pieces into place.

~*~*~*~

            Vincent walked on, even though it was clearly past midnight. The moon was full, giving him enough light to navigate by. Even if it hadn’t been, he wasn’t going to let something as trivial as the dark slow him down.

            He was now entering a forest, as he had heard something slip from Aralyn once that seemed to hint toward the place. Small, timid noises from the creatures of the night were the only other sounds beside his slow, steady footfalls.

            He turned abruptly as a twig snapped, the sound echoing loudly in the still, tense air. His hand was at Cerberus, ready to draw at any more provocation. A bush at his right quivered, small and rapid footsteps accompanying the movement.

            “Come out,” Vincent commanded. “No tricks.”

            The leaves shimmered again and then a quiet, timid voice sounded. “Vincent? Is that you?”

            Vincent dropped his gun, finding that he had lost all control of his body for the moment. He remained rigid. He knew that voice. “Aralyn?”

            There was a small, sad laugh, and Vincent noted that the voice was slightly higher and younger. “Well, not exactly…”

~*~*~*~


	62. Jenova

Chapter Sixty-Two: Jenova

            Jenova was displeased.

            She had assumed that Aralyn would simply die of her disease and that would be that. No complications. It was even better than her original plan, which was to simply have Sephiroth exterminate her. Reluctantly, she had refrained from flat out giving that execution order. There was no sense in rendering her son incapable over such a trivial, though certainly bothersome matter.

            But it was the fact that the degree to which it would wound him was so very high that irked her.

            Aralyn had been a nuisance from the beginning. Even before Jenova had revealed herself to her son, she knew that Aralyn was a threat. She began to work her way into the girl’s dreams, showing her the horrors of what was to come, just as she had plagued the pregnant Lucrecia. Aralyn’s devotion would not be shaken, and overall, the opposite of the desired effect occurred; namely, she was driven all the closer to him, and he, to her.

            She had considered waiting until the girl was dead to show herself to Sephiroth, but then he had come to her, to Nibelheim. She could not pass up such an optimal opportunity to latch onto him so strongly.

            If she had gotten her way, Nibelheim would have been ash mere minutes after their reunion, but it had been Aralyn that had stood in the way.

            Sephiroth had locked himself in the Nibelheim mansion’s basement for days, refusing food or sleep as Jenova fought to coerce him into submission. She found that he was very strong, which made her proud, but increased her workload. He accepted her easily enough, grappling tightly to her as she satisfied his need for the parent he had never known, but any mention of Aralyn and he was back to his normal, adamant self. He insisted that she was not his weakness, and would not consent to be purged of her witchcraft. Jenova was often forced to waste precious time reentering his mind after the barest whisper of harm to his wife.

           She didn’t dare try to convince him that Aralyn no longer loved him; how could she? Messages from Aralyn overloaded his answering machine, once the rate reaching seven messages in less than half an hour. Though he didn’t answer, he listened, wavering as she pleaded endlessly for him to pick up, her gentle words influencing the General far more than Jenova had. Instead of trying to break this bond, she tried to use it to her advantage, telling him that if Aralyn truly loved him (and she assured him constantly that she did) she would stand by him in this.

           But Sephiroth knew better, and so on he had fought.

           Jenova had been gentle, playing the part of a concerned mother, until Sephiroth had made the grave mistake of fleeing to Aralyn in his anguish. Jenova had turned wrathful and had made a quick decision; adoration could come later, but respect had to come first.

           Seizing Sephiroth’s body with every ounce of power she possessed, Jenova used her son’s body to lash out at Aralyn. Sephiroth’s spirit could only witness in mute horror as the very same hands that he had vowed never would harm her choked the breath from her body and the blade meant to protect her bit into her again and again. Sephiroth had fought with every fiber in his being, turning from furiously demanding control to pleading brokenly for mercy. Jenova would not relent until Aralyn had fallen, her body broken, maimed, at his own hands.

          That had been the final straw. That night he had broken, and before the sun was up, Nibelheim was nothing but ash.

          Jenova’s wrath toward Aralyn had not abated. Even now, the woman made her son’s heart race, eyes shine, and hands become gentle and merciful. He had been relatively obedient to her will until it became clear to him that actions taken would harm Aralyn. Jenova knew that she couldn’t fight that bond again, should it be revived. It had nearly undone her control over her son last time; it could not be risked again.

          And so she waited, lulling her beloved firstborn into blissful ignorance as Kadaj worked to rid her of this dilemma.

          If the shine in her youngest son’s eyes was any indicator, it would not be long.

 _“Make it soon,”_ she crooned to Kadaj. _“And make her suffer.”_

          “Yes, Mother,” came the unwavering reply. “Soon…only a little longer…”

          With such clear declarations of adoration and dedication from her youngest, why did she feel that Kadaj was hiding something?

~*~*~*~


	63. I Don't Know

Chapter Sixty-Three: I Don’t Know

            Yazoo fumed as he walked down the dark street. Streetlights flickered dimly, allowing him to freely roam the shadowed city.

            Kadaj had been infuriating as of late, purposely pushing his older sibling past his limits. Loz was let in on whatever he was scheming, but only for the purpose of spiting Yazoo. He knew it had to be something to do with Aralyn. No matter how he tried, he could get no information from Kadaj. He wondered if Kadaj suspected that he would have only tried to thwart that plan, and hoped fervently that this wasn’t the case.  

            If he wanted to know anything, he’d have to find the information himself.

            Yazoo slunk down an alley. This was the way to Seventh Heaven. He knew he was crazy for even thinking of coming here, but this was where Vincent Valentine was, and Vincent would have the answers Yazoo needed. He only hoped that Valentine would give him a chance to explain before he shot at him.

            If that happened, then it would be the end of him. Yazoo had left his weapons at their base. If they didn’t believe him, he would not fight back. It was the least he could do to make up for the incident with Marlene.

            The bedroom window was slightly open, voices drifting out. Yazoo silently slid back from the exposure of the moon. It looked like he would have to use the front door instead of climbing into the bedroom as planned.

            Yazoo opened the door and held the bell, not letting it drop down and ring. He slid through, and lowered the bell slowly, letting it return silently to its place.

            “Hey! What do you think you’re doing here?!”

            Yazoo flinched. That voice belonged to Yuffie, the annoying little twerp of a ninja. Heavy footsteps pounded on the stairs. Cid and Barret were in the stairway entrance.

            “Good,” Cid said in his heavily accented voice. “Now we can get some answers.”

            Barret charged Yazoo, taking his bulky hand and grabbing the thin, white throat. Yazoo felt the wall scrape against his back as his feet dangled above the ground.

            “I will ask you this once, and the only reason I am asking is because you didn’t kill Marlene. What are you doing here?”

            “I’ve come for Valentine,” Yazoo gasped. 

            Barret threw him across the room, letting him crumple into the corner. Yazoo stood, leaning against the wall. It was his first impulse to fight back, but he pushed it away. If they wanted to kill him, he would let them.

            Cloud and Tifa were now standing in the bar. “What does he want?”  Cloud asked coldly. “Wants Vincent,” Cid grunted.

            “He’s gone,” Tifa declared. “He went looking for Aralyn. Why did you come?”

            “He has some information that I need.”

            “And you’re not going to get it!” Cloud yelled, slamming the standing Yazoo into the ground with his sword.

            “Cloud, maybe he isn’t a—“

            “A what, a threat? A monster?  He shouldn’t even exist, because he’s _just_ a _remnant_.” Cloud jabbed at Yazoo with every word he spoke.

            “But he didn’t do anything to Marlene,” Tifa argued. “He let her go.”

            “After threatening to kill her!” Barret took his mechanical arm and smashed it against Yazoo, throwing him against the wall. 

            “I . . . was never . . . going to hurt . . . her . . .” Yazoo choked out. “I . . . just needed . . . answers.”

            “You threatened her for measly words.” Tifa turned accusing now. “You just chose her because she was a child?” She angrily approached Yazoo, placing her feet firmly in front of him. “You vile fragment.” She swung her foot around, hitting him and jerking his head to the side. Yazoo ran a finger against his jaw, wincing. 

            Cloud lifted him by his empty sheath.“Where is Kadaj?” He hissed.

            “I don’t know,” Yazoo replied calmly.

            “Liar!” Cloud yelled, slamming Yazoo against the wall again. Yazoo felt the floor slam harder against him as he fell.

            “What is he planning?” Cloud screamed.

            “I don’t know,” Yazoo responded. 

             Cloud used the sharp edge of his sword to throw Yazoo across the room. “What is Aralyn going to do?  Why is she going to Willow Dale?” Cloud roared across the room.

            “I don’t know.” Yazoo was seeing spots. So this was how it was going to end. Cloud threw him back to the first pool of his own blood.

            “Why don’t you know anything?” Tifa sneered. “I thought you were supposed to be Kadaj’s right-hand man.” 

             Barret lifted Yazoo against the wall and Cid held him there. “Let me through!” Yuffie yelled. “When I get done with you – “

            “No!” A voice cried. Yuffie took no notice of the doorbell sounding. She aimed her shuriken and thrust towards Yazoo.

            It found Vincent instead. 

            Yuffie let go in surprise. Vincent gasped, backing up against the wall and slowly pulling out the shuriken. Cid withdrew his hand and Yazoo slumped to the floor. A girl, remarkably similar to Aralyn, rushed to his side. 

            “Vincent . . . why?”  Tifa asked, her voice quiet but accusing.

            “He just needed answers. Yazoo is no longer in league with them. Kadaj and Verian have allied together without him.” Vincent pushed away from the wall and walked weakly through the small crowd. “Vega, can you carry him?”

            Blonde hair swiveled over her shoulder as she turned and nodded. Her hands dipped in blood as she reached under Yazoo, putting his arm over her shoulder and wrapping her other arm around his waist. Yazoo attempted to help support himself, but his body gave out. Slowly, she followed Vincent up the stairs.

            “Vincent, I’m sorry!”  Yuffie called.

~*~*~*~

            Vincent led them to a back bedroom, furnished with only a twin bed and a tall, skinny dresser. 

            “Set him here,” Vincent said, motioning towards the bed.

            “What about you, Vincent?  Even if you are practically immortal, it doesn’t mean you won’t get an infection.” Vega put her hands on her hips. “Come here.”

            “Tend to him first.”  Vincent paused.  “It’s all my fault. If I had been here, then he would have had time to explain...and I would have known and convinced the others...”

            “You did nothing wrong,” Vega countered. “Now go get Tifa to help you. I’ll take care of Yazoo here.”

            Vincent limped away, leaving Vega alone in the dark room, save for the figure on the bed.

            Vega stood still for a moment, letting the air from the open window permeate the room, the soft night scents calming her. She slowly turned around and stepped lightly to the bed. Yazoo’s eyes were half open, his breathing harsh and ragged. Wisps of blood-fringed hair splayed across his face.

            Vega’s pale hand brushed the strands away. Yazoo flinched as if he expected her to strike him. She hushed him, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed.

            “Hello,” she whispered.  “I’m a remnant, too.  I think . . . I think we are supposed to go together, like Aralyn and Sephiroth.”

~*~*~*~

            Loz found Yazoo’s trail easily and tracked it to Seventh Heaven. Looking in the window, he saw a girl by Yazoo . . . and he saw blood leaking out of the broken body of his brother. The girl had something in her hands. Something white – it was cloth. 

            Loz jumped into the room, crashing through the window. The girl looked up, surprised.  Loz approached threateningly.  

            “No,” she started to say, “I’m only trying to he –“

            Loz took her face in his hand and shoved her into the wall. A crack resounded in the room. Yazoo weakly opened his eyes. Loz picked him up, gently carrying him between his arms to the window. 

            “No,” Yazoo choked. 

            Loz looked at him, surprised. Kadaj was going to welcome him back into the fold – Yazoo should be happy!

            “Take me back,” He gasped weakly.

            Loz complied, standing near Vega’s crumpled figure. Yazoo let one of his arms fall, brushing her bloodied head. Loz understood what Yazoo meant. He laid his brother back on the bed, then placed Vega next to him. Yazoo inched his hand over to hers, grasping her thin, bony fingers. She clasped his hand firmly in return.

            Loz watched as their hands went slack with their final breath.

~*~*~*~


	64. Reactions

Chapter Sixty-Four: Reactions

            _It was a very rare occurrence for the cool, composed General to be rendered absolutely speechless, especially for such a long stretch of time._

_Aralyn’s brow wrinkled in worry, and she reached up and gently brushed his bangs from his eyes. “Seph, what are you thinking?”_

_“I’m not sure,” he admitted._

_Aralyn took this as a bad omen and hung her head. The sparkle in her eyes was gone and there was no sign that minutes ago she had been barely able to restrain her joy._

_“No! I don’t mean it like that!” Sephiroth quickly amended. “I’m just in shock, that’s all. Aralyn, I’m happy.”_

_She looked up and locked eyes with him. “Truly?” she asked. She knew he couldn’t possibly lie to her when she looked at him like that._

_“Truly.”_

_“You don’t sound convincing,” she pointed out._

_Sephiroth grinned, lifting her feet from the ground and swinging her around in a circle. Aralyn laughed in delight. “Is that better?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers and kissing her._

_“I’ll take it,” she said, smiling. She sighed wistfully. “Can you believe we’re going to be parents?”_

_“No,” Sephiroth said simply and honestly. “I can’t but…I’m happy all the same.”_

~*~*~*~

_Zack stared at Sephiroth, open mouthed, hardly blinking. Sephiroth was glad to meet someone who had a harder time accepting it than he did._

_“You…she…pregnant??” Zack stammered._

_“That is what I said,” Sephiroth reminded him, turning back to the pile of papers on his desk._

_Sephiroth counted thirty clicks of the clock before Zack’s mouth closed, and fifteen more before his comrade tilted back his head and laughed. He rushed to Sephiroth and gave him a strong, happy hug. “A kid! Wow, man! That’s amazing!”_

_Sephiroth had never been one for hugs but he let Zack hang on for a while longer before he cleared his throat in a signal to get off. Zack did so, still smiling. “Wow. So…spill the beans! Boy or girl?”_

_“We’re not sure,” Sephiroth said. “Aralyn hasn’t been to a doctor yet. We might decide to keep the gender a surprise.”_

_“When is it due?”_

_“Again, I don’t know. We waited quite a while, until we were sure that she was well enough along. She’s somewhere around five months,” Sephiroth shook his head, smiling. “But you’ll be the first to get the news.”_

_“Sweet!” He calmed down enough to sit down in a chair opposite of Sephiroth’s desk. “So that’s why Aralyn hasn’t been at work. I did wonder.”_

_“She wants to come back, but she gets so sick that she can barely stand. I don’t know much about pregnancies, but that doesn’t seem typical.” Sephiroth’s smile faded, replaced by a solemn, thoughtful look._

_“Hey, man, I’m sure she’s fine,” Zack assured him._

_“At least the baby is. She can hardly sleep anymore, the baby kicks so hard.”_

_“Must be your child,” Zack agreed. “Man, I gotta drop in sometime and check on Aralyn. I have to see this for myself. You are taking good care of her, aren’t you?” Zack was playfully accusing._

_“As best as I can. I don’t know about these things,” he admitted._

_“You need to take her to a doctor, Seph.”_

_Sephiroth frowned. “She won’t go.”_

_“Wait, what?” Zack looked oddly at him. “Say that again?”_

_“She knows how much I wanted to keep our marriage a secret, and she’s afraid that the doctors will pry and find out.”_

_“So she plans to carry a baby for nine months without medical guidance?”_

_“She says that women have been doing this long before modern medicine.”_

_“What happens when she goes into labor? Are you the midwife? ‘Cause I’m certainly not gonna do it.”_

_Zack may as well have dropped an anvil on Sephiroth. He jumped high, looking alarmed. “I…hadn’t thought of that…”_

_“Look,” Zack said. “I’m going to find her a doctor. I’ll find someone who will keep it all quiet. If Aralyn doesn’t like it, tell her to live with it.”_

_“Thanks, Zack,” Sephiroth replied gratefully. “And in return, I’ll bring you to Willow Dale to see Aralyn.”_

_“Will you fly me?” Zack asked, giving his best puppy-dog face._

_“No,” was the prompt response._

~*~*~*~

_Sephiroth wanted to kill Zack._

_He had adhered to his normal lunchtime schedule, calling Aralyn at home before he even thought of food. She had seemed all right, if not exhausted. Zack had been absent from the cafeteria, so he ate quickly and returned to his office._

_The note had been on the table. “I hear you need a doctor. I might be able to help. Stop by my office and we’ll talk. –Rufus Shinra.”_

_The last thing he wanted was the heir to Shinra in on this._

_He spent the rest of the day leaving threatening messages on Zack’s cell. When the spiky haired Soldier finally called back, he was as shocked as Sephiroth had been._

_“I didn’t tell him, I swear!”_

_“How else did he find out, then?” Sephiroth snapped._

_“Look, I haven’t breathed a word! You gotta believe me!”_

_A knock on Sephiroth’s door forced him to call the conversation to an abrupt halt. “Come in,” he said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt._

_Rufus Shinra had decided to come to him about the matter._

~*~*~*~


	65. Tension Between Friends

Chapter Sixty-Five: Tension Between Friends

            Tifa waited outside the door that Vega and Yazoo had retreated behind. Vincent had recently entered, then come out, and she waited for some kind of verdict, but there was only a deep silence.

            “Vincent?” she called. “What’s going on?”

            He didn’t reply, and his silence was hostile.

            “Where is Yazoo?” Tifa tried again, trying to sound conversational.

            “Loz took him. You won’t have to worry about him again.”

            Tifa winced and continued. “How is…Vega?”

            “Come and see for yourself.” The reply was cold and bitter. It sounded like a challenge, or a threat.

            Tifa cautiously entered, the breath leaving her as she saw the lone body on the bed. Her vision blurred, and she leaned against the wall. Even with her blurry vision, she could see Vincent’s eyes burning. She had never seen him this furious.

            “Is she…?”

            “Yes,” Vincent said darkly. “She is dead. Aralyn’s remnant is dead.” His fists clenched. “Do you have any _idea_ what you have done? You may as well have killed Aralyn!”

“Vincent I—“

            “Just go,” he seethed. “You’ve done enough.”

            Tifa left, afraid of this side of her friend. She retreated downstairs, where everyone waited. “What happened?” Cloud asked.

            “Vega,” Tifa began slowly and reluctantly, “was Aralyn’s remnant. She…she’s gone.”

            Cloud’s sword dropped from his hand and his body went limp with shock. Yuffie was the one to voice the question that was on everyone’s mind. “Will that affect Aralyn?”

            “Vincent said…said we may as well have killed her. I’ve never seen him so angry…” Tifa paused. “I think he’s really scared.”

            This statement added to the tension. If something was frightening Vincent this badly, they had very good reason to be worried.

            “What about Yazoo?” Cid asked.

            “Loz took him. I think he’s dead too.”

            “Well at least _something_ good happened today,” Yuffie murmured. “One less remnant to worry about.”

            Somehow, this statement didn’t console Tifa any. “I want to give Vincent a minute to cool down, and then I’ll talk to him again.”

            No one seemed keen on joining her.

~*~*~*~

            Vincent began gently wrapping the body in a clean sheet, seeming to be afraid of hurting her even though she could no longer feel any pain.

            To add to the shock of losing Vega, there was the disconcerting fact that she did look extraordinarily like Aralyn. To see her eyes closed, her skin cold and pale in death, was like looking at Aralyn.

            He hoped it was not some kind of omen.

            He didn’t dare to think about what tomorrow would bring. Sephiroth would know they had killed his remnant and would doubtlessly show up for vengeance. Aralyn’s whereabouts were unknown, and it was very likely that she was lying in the middle of nowhere, brought to the ground by the disease that would soon claim her life. Vega was no more, the help she might have offered and the secrets she held dying along with her.

            Worst of all was the insight into his friends that he had received.

            If they could treat Yazoo, who was only a pawn of Sephiroth, with such hatred, he couldn’t imagine what would happen when they found out Aralyn’s secret.

~*~*~*~

            Tifa had knocked quietly, disturbed by the silence in the room. It had taken three attempts, but Vincent had finally admitted her in. His back was toward her as he stared out the window into the night. He didn’t move to acknowledge her presence. Tifa stood, waiting for him to speak first.

            He did, beginning softly. “I found her on the way to Willow Dale, and it took little convincing for me to believe that she was who she said she was. She agreed to take me there, but only if I agreed to one condition.”

            “What was that?” Tifa gently prodded.

            He chuckled darkly, sadly. “That I return here and tell everyone everything.” Tifa waited for a response pertaining to Aralyn’s secrets, but he continued on with his story. “We came back, and I was ready to tell you all, but after this…”

            “We want to help!” Tifa cried. “Please, she’s our friend too!”

            “You don’t know who it is you are aiding.”

            The statement rang in the air, startling Tifa. “We don’t care who she is! How could you think we would? She’s our friend, that’s all that matters!”

            “I thought so as well, but after tonight…” He shook his head to finish the thought. “I will be leaving tomorrow to seek out Willow Dale. I will go alone, and you will make no attempt to follow me.”

            “Vincent, aren’t you being rash?”

            “Who is being rash?” he asked, turning to her and staring at her intensely. “If anyone is guilty of that, it is you.”

            Tifa was glad when a sharp rap on the front door broke the tension. Yuffie yelled up to them. “Might want to restrain Vincent; it’s Verian.”

            This came at a time when Tifa had honestly believed that Vincent couldn’t possibly be more enraged.

~*~*~*~


	66. Another Confidant

Chapter Sixty-Six: Another Confidant

            _“Good afternoon, General,” Rufus said, entering confidently._

_Sephiroth had to suppress the urge to glare. “Good afternoon,” he said, his voice betraying no emotion. He decided it best to feign ignorance for the moment. “What brings you here?”_

_“Let’s be honest with one another. I think we both know.”_

_Sephiroth nonchalantly filed some papers away in the file cabinets behind his desk. He took his time, both gauging Rufus’s response and planning on how he should proceed._

_Rufus had seated himself in a chair opposite of Sephiroth’s desk, not waiting for an invitation. He didn’t seem to be intimidated by the General, which was a change. Most who entered usually did so with at least a slight degree of caution. Sephiroth could see a smirk in his eyes, and guessed that Rufus believed he had no reason to fear because he was the one with the upper hand. One word, and it would be all over the media._

_When Sephiroth sat back down again, Rufus began the conversation. “I hear you need a doctor.”_

_Sephiroth had a biting retort but figured it best not to offend his superior. “Do I seem ill?” He still figured it best to let him be the one to reveal the information. If he played ignorant, he could find out how deep Rufus’s knowledge went._

_“I know the game you’re playing.”_

_Sephiroth knew he wasn’t stupid. Rufus had probably already guessed his tactics, but he still refused to fall for the bait. “Sir?”_

_Rufus leaned forward then. “All right. I know about your wife. Aralyn, isn’t it? She works downstairs in the diner. You’ve known her since you were little, you were fellow specimens of Hojo, and five months and,” he checked his golden watch, verifying the date, “twenty days ago, you were wed in the most remote church you could find. I have yet to locate Willow Dale, but believe me, I am capable of doing so.”_

_Sephiroth frowned deeply. He was worried by how much information he had managed to gather._

_“Do I need to continue?” Rufus said._

_Sephiroth didn’t need assurance to know that Rufus had many more details up his sleeve. “No, sir. I understand you.”_

_“And she’s pregnant now?”_

_Sephiroth had been backed into a corner. “Yes.” There was nothing else he could say._

_“You’ll need a doctor.” He said, restating the obvious. “And you still insist on keeping this quiet?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_Rufus leaned back in the chair. “I can help you.”_

_Sephiroth didn’t dare ask about what would be asked in exchange. “That would be…very much appreciated.”_

_“Her name is Dr. Calvin. She’s the best in her field, a very gentle and soft-spoken woman. She will take good care of Aralyn and the child. I can speak with her and arrange for this to be kept secret. Due to her schedule, Aralyn might have to come in for her check-ups at night, but I think you’ll find that her aid is worth it.”_

_Sephiroth winced, waiting for the catch. “That sounds perfect. What will I be expected to do in return?”_

_Rufus looked confused, but Sephiroth knew it was an emotion painted on like a mask. “Can you not accept a gift, Sephiroth? You’re the greatest Soldier, and it’s little payment for what you’ve done for Shinra.”_

_If Sephiroth knew anything about Rufus, it was that nothing came free. The fact that the price was being kept secret only worried him even more._

_“Bring her in tonight,” Rufus continued as he stood and brushed off his suit. “I’ll have her meet you here and escort you to her office.”_

_“Thank you, sir. But if I may, I have one more question.”_

_“All right.”_

_“How did you find out?” It was blunt, but it wouldn’t do any good to soften it up any. Rufus would guess soon enough._

_Rufus smiled. “I guessed. I had a lot of evidence to back me up. Aralyn’s pregnancy was a lot more harsh than normal and she couldn’t even work part time. You’ve been calling the same number every day at lunch. You’ve been smiling a lot more, for unexplainable reasons. However, now I know that my suspicions are correct.”_

_Sephiroth feared that something like this would have happened. Now Aralyn and Sephiroth were both completely at his mercy._

~*~*~*~


	67. New Arrivals

Chapter Sixty-Seven: New Arrivals

            _Sephiroth was awakened in the middle of the night by Aralyn’s death grip on his arms. “Sephiroth!” she called frantically._

_“What is it?” he answered, instantly alert._

_Her face was white, her lips clenched tightly. “The baby is coming.”_

_Sephiroth quickly grabbed a pair of clothes and helped to dress her, as Aralyn’s contractions were so strong that she couldn’t even stand. The bed around her legs was sopping wet. Frantically, he wrapped her in a towel. Her eyes were closed and she was fighting to breathe deeply and remain calm._

_He picked up his phone and dialed Dr. Calvin’s number, hurriedly telling her that they were coming. Thankfully, she didn’t ask much, only told them that she’d be waiting. Next he called Zack. Zack wouldn’t have the time to come all the way to Willow Dale - by then the baby might have already come - but he could meet them at the highway to make the trip shorter. For once, Sephiroth was glad that Zack drove like a madman._

_He rushed back to Aralyn and gathered her in his arms. “Hang on,” he held her hand and squeezed. “It’s going to be all right.”_

_She nodded, biting her lip._

_Cursing the timing, he spread his wing and took to the skies. He had never flown so fast. The wind whipped the both of them, but he couldn’t slow down. If her grip on him was any indicator, Aralyn’s pains were strengthening. Occasionally, she let out a small gasp or cry. “Hang on,” he urged, over and over, fighting to keep his own panic at bay._

_He remembered little of the car ride to the hospital except breathing with his wife as Dr. Calvin had taught her and rubbing her back in slow circles. Zack was frantic as well, but the two men worked to encourage Aralyn, and they somehow made it in time._

_Dr. Calvin was waiting, and as soon as Sephiroth and Zack laid her on a wheeled stretcher they began to take her away._

_Zack stayed behind in the lobby, but Sephiroth would not release Aralyn’s hand, running alongside the doctors._

_“Sephiroth, you can’t be in the delivery room,” a nurse said._

_Aralyn was noticeably alarmed by this, and clasped his hands with frenzied strength. “Don’t leave me!” she cried._

_Dr. Calvin gave the couple a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry…it’s against regulations.”_

_Sephiroth kissed Aralyn. “Everything will be all right. You are strong and beautiful and I love you.”_

_After he had consoled her further, she relaxed somewhat. They took her away, leaving Sephiroth in the hall, his hand still stretched towards her. It was several minutes before he returned to the lobby where Zack waited._

_Sephiroth could barely contain his worry and his excitement. Within the next few hours, he was going to be a father._

~*~*~*~

_Zack had been convinced to take a seat, but Sephiroth had been pacing since their arrival. The lush carpet was flattened where he had trod over and over again. Periodically he would stop, look at the clock, grip his head, and begin again. The receptionist looked at him sympathetically, and at his request, turned off the soothing lobby music that was only aggravating him more._

_“Look man, it’s not going to kill you to sit,” Zack tried for the umpteenth time._

_Sephiroth stopped, and Zack thought that for a moment he had caught the General’s attention, but it was only to glance at the clock, and then he resumed his routine._

_Zack sighed and turned again to the dull magazines that the lobby offered. “You’re going to run a hole in the floor.”_

_No answer. Zack hadn’t expected one._

_After a period of time that Zack hadn’t managed to follow (although he would be willing to bet his paycheck that Sephiroth could recite how long it had been down to the second), a door opened and a nurse whispered something to the receptionist, who then smiled and looked at the General. “Sephiroth,” she called._

_“What’s wrong? What happened?” he demanded._

_“Are you always so pessimistic?” The receptionist put away the papers she was filing so that she could converse with the approaching Zack and Sephiroth. “You have a strong, healthy baby boy. Congratulations!”_

_Zack wasn’t sure what he expected Sephiroth’s reaction to be, but he was rewarded with seeing his General’s tense form relax as he breathed out air that he probably had been holding for a while. Zack clapped his commander on the shoulder. “That’s great, man!”_

_“Can I see them?” Sephiroth asked anxiously._

_“No…not yet. Aralyn’s still in labor.”_

_Sephiroth looked at her, the pieces not quite coming together yet. “But I thought you said…”_

_Zack laughed as he finally understood. “Sephiroth, you’re getting twins!”_

_The receptionist nodded. “You decided not to get an ultrasound to let it be a surprise…well, what a surprise it was!”_

_Sephiroth was smiling genuinely, his eyes shining as bright as they had on his wedding day. “Twins…?”_

_“It won’t be long now,” she assured him. “You’ve been here a while. Go get something to eat. Celebrate. We’ll take good care of Aralyn and the children.”_

_Zack grinned like a Cheshire cat as the men exited the lobby. “I can’t wait to see the Sephiroth-and-Aralyn juniors! Can I call them squirt?”_

_“They are going to have better names than that,” Sephiroth said, but he smiled at his comrade’s enthusiasm._

_“Got any ideas?”_

_“I want Aralyn to have a say in the decision.”_

_Zack turned the opposite direction from the food court. “I want to get Aralyn one of those ‘Congratulations’ balloons or something. Maybe some flowers…she likes roses, right?”_

_“Red and white,” Sephiroth confirmed. “And I’ll come with you. She will probably want something in the chocolate department.”_

_“And then we can get food?” he asked hopefully._

_Sephiroth chuckled, knowing Zack’s weakness. “Yes, my friend, then we can get food.”_

~*~*~*~


	68. Children

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Children

            _The two men returned after a lavish meal. Zack had insisted that he shoulder the hefty bill alone, as this was Sephiroth’s special day. Sephiroth frowned, but complied, figuring that he could always slip it back into Zack’s paycheck later._

_Zack entered the lobby laughing, barely upright, and Sephiroth, while still maintaining his regal posture, was smiling._

_The wave of worry emanating from the nurse and the receptionist hit them like a physical blow._

_The receptionist approached him, her face tight and her eyes downcast. “You can see Aralyn now. I’ll take you to her.” Her voice pleaded with the men not to inquire any further._

_Sephiroth asked anyway. “Is the last child born?”_

_“Yes.” She hesitated. “A daughter. She’s beautiful, Sephiroth.”_

_“Then why so sad? That’s great!” Zack exclaimed._

_“Sephiroth,” she said softly, looking him in the eye. “Your daughter and Aralyn…there were some complications…”_

_The blood ran from Sephiroth’s face and he stumbled backward. “Complications?” he said weakly. Zack suddenly wasn’t smiling anymore._

_“Your daughter is in the intensive care unit. Dr. Calvin is with her, she’s doing all she can. I’m so sorry…it shouldn’t have happened like this.” She turned. “Come, Aralyn will want to see you.”_

_Numbly, Sephiroth followed._

_“Do you want me to come back later?” Zack asked, showing rare sensitivity to the situation._

_“Maybe that would be best,” Sephiroth said. “I’ll call. I want you to meet my son and…I pray…my daughter as well.”_

_Zack nodded solemnly and walked away._

~*~*~*~

            _Before he even entered the room he could hear the monitors. The beat was steady and reassuring, promising Sephiroth that if nothing else went right, his wife was still alive. She was sleeping when he entered, lying on her back with her wired hands above the white sheets. She was breathing with the assistance of a tube that ran under her nose and across her face. The sheets were smooth and unruffled; she had not stirred in her sleep._

_This didn’t mean she slept well or deeply, merely that she was too exhausted to show it physically. Her face, in contrast, was troubled, and the heart monitor sped up for a while, sensing her panic in the grip of a nightmare._

_The only difference between the two was that Aralyn was asleep. Sephiroth was living the nightmare, and soon Aralyn would wake to the same._

_Their daughter’s life was in question._

_He didn’t want to wake her, so he silently pulled a chair up to her bedside. Sweat plastered her hair to her face, and he busied himself with smoothing it back for her with the gentlest touch. He fingered her hands, her flushed cheeks, taking comfort in her living warmth, even though it was the result of a fever._

_Her eyes flickered open, still a vibrant blue. A smile lit her face and her eyes as her sight focused enough to identify her husband._

_He pressed his lips lightly to hers before she could speak, and then left his face close to hers. “Aralyn,” he breathed quietly. “Are you well?”_

_She didn’t answer the question. She raised herself up a little, despite Sephiroth’s hands gently coaxing her down. “Do you want to meet your son?” she asked._

_Sephiroth smiled. “I’ve been waiting for nine months.”_

_Aralyn leaned over to a speakerphone at her head. “Dr. Calvin, can Sephiroth meet his little boy?”_

_“I’ll bring him right in, Aralyn.”_

_Both tried to take their minds from the peril their second child was in, but Sephiroth could take it no longer._

_“Aralyn, what happened to our daughter?”_

_She buried her face in his chest, clutching him for support. “They tried to hide her body from me but…I saw. She was so tiny…and deathly pale…she didn’t make the slightest noise…and she wasn’t moving at all…they won’t tell me anything!”_

_His blood ran cold._ Stillborn? _He prayed with everything he had that it wasn’t so. Sephiroth swallowed his own fear and soothed his wife, stroking her hair and whispering assurances. She shook and cried quietly; Sephiroth felt his eyes burn as well._

_The door opened and Dr. Calvin entered. Wrapped in a soft blue blanket, cradled against her shoulder, was a small, wriggling bundle. Aralyn pulled away and reached for her son, Dr. Calvin placing the baby in her arms, smiling. “He’s been such a good boy in the nursery, you should be proud.” With that, she left, leaving the parents to their child._

_Sephiroth looked anxiously at the wad of blankets. Aralyn smiled, placing the boy in his father’s arms. He pulled back uncertainly, afraid about his lack of experience with children, but with Aralyn’s soft hands guiding his so he held the child comfortably, he was able to cradle his son in one arm. Hesitantly, he pulled back the corner that concealed his child’s face from his view._

_Wide, bright green eyes peered at his father for the first time, shining with new life. Thin, wispy silver hair laid flat against his scalp, as soft and light as feathers. His skin was pale, but not unhealthy. A tiny hand reached up from beneath the blankets and Sephiroth grasped it, his hand entirely blanketing the newborn’s._

_Sephiroth had never felt like this. His heart swelled with love and pride; he had a beautiful, perfect son. He spent several minutes just gazing at his little boy, holding the tiny hand. The baby began to cry softly, like a mewing kitten._

_“Do you approve?” Aralyn asked, laying her hand on his arm._

_“Aralyn he’s…” Sephiroth stopped, failing to find the right words. “Perfect,” he settled for, still feeling that it came short. He kissed her deeply, overwhelmed with gratitude for his wife and this wonderful gift she had given them. “Thank you, Aralyn.”_

_“You need to pick a name,” Aralyn said, smiling. “A beautiful name for your firstborn son.”_

_Sephiroth looked at the innocent eyes, smiling proudly. “Aidan.”_

_“Aidan it is. What about…what should we name our daughter?”_

~*~*~*~

_Dr. Calvin’s heart broke as she eased the needle out of the tiny girl’s hand, replacing it with a new one as smoothly as she could. The baby didn’t cry. It was as Hojo had diagnosed. She was mute. She would never speak as long as she lived._

_Which may not have been much longer._

_She tended to the frail girl as gently as she could, even taking time out to try to dribble milk and medicines down the infant’s throat. No success. She would have to survive on the IV’s alone._

_A knock on the door distracted her from her duties. Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the girl in the cold glass cage, she answered the door, finding Sephiroth and Aralyn._

_“Dr. Calvin, please. Let me see my baby…let me hold her…” Aralyn pleaded. “Just once, please! I…I can’t take it anymore!”_

_“Aralyn,” Dr. Calvin choked here, but soon straightened. “I have a daughter too, and please believe me when I say that I know what you’re feeling. But it’s not safe. She’s too small to survive outside the incubator.”_

_“I just want to look at her!” she begged. “Please!”_

_“Dr. Calvin,” Sephiroth said, squeezing his wife’s shoulder. “She has more right to see her daughter than you do. Let her in. If it’s against regulations, we’ll keep it quiet. I…_ we _…won’t let anything happen to our daughter.”_

_Dr. Calvin could say nothing, but let them into the room, gesturing to the glass cradle that had countless wires running into it._

_She turned away, knowing the wonder they must have felt as they beheld the angel they had been given. Like her brother, she had wide, expressive emerald eyes and the beginnings of what would be flowing silver hair with the slightest curl. Her features were soft and feminine, giving her a delicate appearance._

_She would be a radiant woman when…and if…she grew up._

_“We were surprised to find…” The couple turned to her, eyes glassy with tears. She stopped, but Sephiroth urged her on. Instead of words, Dr. Calvin ever so lightly took the infant and rolled her on her stomach, pulling back a sewn flap on her clothing._

_Aralyn and Sephiroth gasped as they saw, protruding from their daughter’s back, a pair of tiny, pure white wings. “That’s why there were complications, Aralyn. But…they are a miracle all the same.”_

_Aralyn took the baby in her arms and stroked her daughter’s cheek, whispering soothing words to her child. Sephiroth laid his hand on the infant’s head._

_“Have you given her a name?” Dr. Calvin asked._

_“Nadiya,” Aralyn whispered, turning to Sephiroth. “It means ‘hope’…”_

_Sephiroth nodded wordlessly, an insurmountable sadness in his eyes._

_After a tearful goodbye, Dr. Calvin was left with little Nadiya. To her surprise, Nadiya’s heartbeat was stronger, steadier. Experimentally, she cautiously removed the tubes from her nose to find that the infant was breathing strongly on her own._

_“Nadiya…you’re going to make it, girl!”_

_It was then that the call came._

_It was from Hojo. He gave her the orders she had feared he would._

_“You promised me they could have one night with the children!” Calvin cried. “You promised!” More talking, and the blood ran from her face. “No…no…she’s recovering…I can’t do that! No! I won’t let someone else do it! You can’t do this! You can’t!” she was screaming by the time the other scientist hung up._

_One of Hojo’s assistants delivered the lethal injection moments later. The threat was clear. She had no choice._

_It was either Nadiya or her own daughter._

~*~*~*~


	69. Convergence

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Convergence

            Cloud answered the door, ushering in Verian, who was drenched from the rain. Tifa draped a blanket over his shoulders and handed him a hot drink; he nodded his appreciation.

            “So, have you heard?” Verian asked after sipping silently for quite a while. “About…you know…Sephiroth?”

            Vincent’s lethal look only intensified, everyone else’s attention snapped to him. “You have word?” Tifa asked.

            He took his sweet time answering. “Seems he’s intercepted Aralyn.”

            Vincent glared at him, trying to gauge if this was the truth.

            “What does he want with her?” Tifa asked worriedly.

            “What did he want with Nibelheim?” Cid interrupted harshly. “Does he need a reason to kill?”

            “I don’t know, but he’s keeping her in the Forgotten City. I came as soon as I could but the rumors I heard weren’t good…” He took another long, slow sip.

            Vincent knew that Verian was hiding something. There was glint in his eye that gave him away.

            But what if even half of what he said was the truth?

            The decision was made without speaking. Now that they had a location, Cloud was armed in an instant, eager to face his old rival.

            Vincent could have sworn he saw Verian’s face light up in a smirk.

~*~*~*~

            Kadaj walked away from the Seventh Heaven, smiling. Verian had done well. He had known that mention of Aralyn would fan the flame, but he still hadn’t expected them to fall so quickly.

           And with any luck, Sephiroth was headed toward the Forgotten City as they spoke.

           He had been easy to sway as well. Yazoo’s death seemed to have struck him, though it only showed faintly in his eyes in the dead of night, when he thought no one saw.

           He wished Sephiroth hadn’t become so superstitious and wary as of late. He wouldn’t have fallen for the bait if it had happened differently. All it took was one glance at Yazoo’s lifeless body to convince him otherwise.

          Avalanche would meet Sephiroth in the Forgotten City, both teams’ blood running hot with anger.

          There was only himself, Verian, and a certain blonde-haired girl who needed to attend to make it all complete.

          Aralyn would come of her own accord.

          Her veil would fall, and Avalanche would see her for exactly who she was.

~*~*~*~

 


	70. A Second Chance

Chapter Seventy: A Second Chance

            _It was the most harrowing thing she had done in her life, but Dr. Calvin had given Nadiya the injection._

_She clutched tiny Nadiya to her body, rocking her as she cried. Just as hope had returned for the girl, it had to be dashed by a few drops of a clear substance that might have been mistaken for water. Nadiya did not…could not…comprehend that her life was about to end._

_She had lived for twenty hours before the injection. Dr. Calvin knew that she would not live to the end of her first day._

_She rocked the silent girl in her arms, cursing Hojo with every fiber of her being between the sobs that shook her shoulders. Nadiya looked at her with wide, innocent eyes that tore her heart even more._

_Sephiroth and Aralyn would be heartbroken._

_A sharp rap on the door forced her to her feet. She tenderly laid Nadiya back in the cradle, tucking her small body in a hand woven blanket. She wiped her eyes on the sleeves of her white lab coat, ignoring how the makeup smeared across her face._

_She opened the door to find the two she wanted to see the least at that moment: Hojo and Rufus._

_Hojo walked in, pushing her aside and walking toward the bassinette. Dr. Calvin couldn’t suppress a cry as he picked up the tiny infant in his cold, cruel hands. “I take it you gave her the injection?” He looked skeptically at her, frowning as he saw the state she was in. “You’re not cut out for this.”_

_“Why did you have to…I mean weren’t you going to…?”_

_“Experiment?” Hojo laughed harshly. “Do you think this runt could withstand anything I tried? No. All she’s done is proved that the second generation of the Jenova project can be prone to…frailty. She’s a failure. She needed to be disposed of.” He found the puncture wound from the injection and nodded in approval. “Good, good. Shouldn’t be long now.”_

_Dr. Calvin couldn’t bear how he was handling her, how he referred to this miracle as a worthless failure._

_“Although,” Hojo continued, “I was surprised that she could have wings. I didn’t know they could be passed on genetically. Sephiroth wasn’t born with his, it were grafted in when he was eight, and he only had one while she has a full pair! Fascinating, really…”_

_“Please,” Dr. Calvin pleaded, “Let me have Nadiya. I’ll let you know when…” She had to force herself to say it. “When…it’s over.”_

_Hojo frowned deeply and adjusted his glasses. “You may, so long as you fulfill your last part of the deal. I promised you they could be parents for one night. In the morning, I’ll be back for the boy and the body.”_

_Rufus, who had stood as a silent witness, now spoke. “Does anyone know of this except you, Dr. Calvin?”_

_“A couple of the nurses that helped Aralyn with the delivery…”_

_“Will they talk?”_

_“No.”_

_Hojo grinned. “This has been quite wonderful, Rufus. Thank you for the tip. The boy will be a wonderful specimen.”_

_“I know Shinra will benefit from your research, Professor,” Rufus said smiling._

_As they walked away they discussed the fate of little Aidan. Dr. Calvin wondered fleetingly if she had spared Nadiya from a life of pain, one that her brother could not escape._

~*~*~*~

            _She was surprised at how long Nadiya was lasting. It had been an hour, and she was still blinking her wide eyes, her chest rising and falling as she breathed in tiny puffs of air._

_Another knock on her door jarred her, and she worried that it was Hojo again, but when she opened it, she found Sephiroth._

_What was she going to tell him?_

_“Good evening, Doctor,” he said kindly. “Is Nadiya doing all right?”_

_“She’s stronger,” Dr. Calvin blurted out before she could stop herself. “Her heartbeat has regulated and she’s breathing without the respirator.”_

_She felt guilt slam into her as his eyes lightened with hope. A hope that would be destroyed as she soon succumbed to the poison._

_“Could I take her back to the room?” he asked. “We want to be a family…the four of us.”_

_Why did her feet take her to the cradle, gently lifting the infant and placing the tiny angel in his outstretched arms? Why was she consenting? Did she want Sephiroth and Aralyn to watch, helpless, as the life was sapped from their daughter?_

_A calm that she’d never seen on the stern general’s face spread as he took the girl. He handled her like a butterfly, with tenderness one with his strength should not have possessed. His eyes were glowing. “Thank you,” he said as he walked away, talking gently to his daughter._

_“B-Bring her back in the morning,” she called after him. He nodded, and left._

_That began the longest night Dr. Calvin had ever lived through._

~*~*~*~

            _She woke up to a steady knock, finding that she had fallen asleep with her head on the desk. She rose to her feet and answered it, greeted by a smiling Aralyn and Sephiroth._

_“Thank you so much,” Aralyn said. “It’s good to be with the whole family. Did you need her back?”_

_Dr. Calvin passed clean out when she saw that Nadiya was still moving in her mother’s arms._

_If the poison hadn’t taken effect over the ten hours that had passed, then the only solution was that somehow, impossibly, she was immune._

_Nadiya had been given a second chance to live._

~*~*~*~


	71. A Proper Welcome

Chapter Seventy-One: A Proper Welcome

_Sephiroth and Aralyn had returned to their room to avoid the chaos that had ensued. It was a time to be free of the nurses while they were caring for Dr. Calvin, and Sephiroth gave Zack a call, telling him that now would be the best time to visit._

_He had taken longer than Sephiroth had expected, but he came hauling in a large grocery bag of gifts._

_Upon entrance, he dropped the sack and ran to Sephiroth, locking his neck in his arm and digging his knuckles into his commander’s silver hair. “Yeah, man! My boss is a daddy! Whooooooo!”_

_Sephiroth did not appreciate the display of affection, no matter how well Zack meant by it._

_Aralyn was trying not to laugh, and was hiding her mouth behind her hand, small, choked chuckles escaping as she tried to greet Zack._

_“Get off me or you’re evicted,” Sephiroth said through clenched teeth._

_Zack pulled away and went up to Aralyn, reaching for the two bundles cradled close to her body. “Hey, lemme see!”_

_“Do I want him handling our children?” Aralyn asked Sephiroth, pulling the babies in closer in mock worry._

_“Good question,” Sephiroth murmured, still fixing his hair._

_“Aw, come on! They want to meet their Uncle Zack!” He gave Sephiroth a pitiful face. “Please, man?”_

_Aralyn got up, Sephiroth grabbing her hand as a precaution even though she made it, and pushed Zack into the rocking chair in the corner. Gently, she held out Aidan and placed him in Zack’s inexperienced arms, adjusting them so he cradled the baby tightly._

_Zack cooed, bouncing the baby. “This is Aidan? Looks like his daddy. But I can see a lot of Aralyn in him too.” He took the tiny hand and felt the soft fingers. “Strong little guy too…Heya squirt!” he said, addressing the little boy. “How are you liking things down here?”_

_Aidan kicked his little feet and waved his arms. Zack liked the enthusiasm he was getting, so he continued to play with little Aidan._

_“He’s an active little sucker,” Zack noted._

_“He is,” Aralyn agreed. “He’s been playing kickball since he was conceived!”_

_Zack played with the little boy some more, but soon he raised his head, wrinkling his nose. “Uh…he stinks.” He looked around, finding the General not far from where he was. “Trade in! Gimme the clean one,” he said as he handed Aidan to Sephiroth._

_“Zack, you’re horrible!” Aralyn said. All the same, she gently handed Nadiya to him, taking Aidan back and bouncing and cooing with her little son. “Aidan needs a diaper change!” she said in a high, singsong voice. “Maybe Daddy will help.”_

_Sephiroth didn’t look too pleased, but took Aidan from Aralyn and dug through the diaper bag._

_Zack’s attention was on Nadiya. While Aidan had been allowed to flail about, Nadiya preferred to be tightly swaddled in a blanket and held firmly. While Zack had played with the energetic Aidan, he could tell that Nadiya was calmer, more content to simply observe her new world. Her wide, bright eyes wandered constantly, and there was a light of intelligence in them. He almost got the feeling that she could understand him._

_“Heya,” he said, barely above a whisper. He handled her more tenderly, stroking her thin hair. “You scared us really bad, girl.”_

_She blinked, meeting his eyes and staring for quite a while._

_“Wow,” Zack said. “They have different personalities already.”_

_Sephiroth reentered the room, cradling Aidan in one arm. “Clean,” he said, gently laying him in his wife’s arms._

_She smiled up at him. “Thanks, Seph.”_

_“You guys have to open my presents now!” Zack declared. He gave Nadiya to Sephiroth as he went to the bag. First he pulled out a box the size of a small toaster, holding it out to Nadiya. “Little ladies first.”_

_Aralyn took the box and opened the paper, being sure to dispose of the ribbon so tiny hands wouldn’t find it. “It’s a…what is this, Zack?”_

_“Not sure, but Seph said she was the thoughtful type and so I got a flashy toy to intrigue her. Lots of lights. Plays some music too, but it gets nauseating after a while and I couldn’t find the volume switch.”_

_Sephiroth, oddly enough, could picture Zack at the store, trying out each and every baby toy despite his high and dignified status as a Soldier first-class. It caused a sly smile to spread across his face._

_Aralyn had found the switch and held the trinket in front of her daughter. As promised, lights and music made themselves present. Nadiya’s little eyes widened, and she waved her arms._

_“Now to the little man!”_

_“What did you get my son?” Sephiroth asked._

_“I was talking about you.” To avoid the glare he got, he thrust another box at Sephiroth. He took Aidan and, when he began to fuss, placed him over his shoulder and patted his back._

_It was worth the humiliation of receiving a leash and a bunny suit from Zack to see the look on the Soldier’s face as warm, white liquid spilled down his back. Aidan, quite content now that his stomach had regulated, burped again and curled up against Zack, who proceeded to hold the wriggling infant at arm’s length. “This thing is lethal!” he cried, grimacing at the smell. “Get it off! Get it off!”_

~*~*~*~


	72. The First Tragedy

Chapter Seventy-Two: The First Tragedy

_Dr. Calvin had taken the children from Sephiroth and Aralyn’s trusting arms. “Thank you,” Aralyn said. “I know they’re safe with you.”_

_She couldn’t speak a reply. She took the twins to the nursery, as she had promised their parents. Once there, she held the children close, breathing deeply, preparing for what she was about to do._

_Slowly, she took Nadiya’s tiny hands and removed them from the sleeve of her light pink pajamas. Nadiya didn’t make a sound, but there was something in her eyes that made Dr. Calvin’s heart stop._

_Did she know what was about to happen to her? Would she ever forgive her? Could she?_

_Slowly she slipped the infant into a white hospital gown, grimacing at how very wrong it looked. She teased the pink ribbon bow from the silky silver hair. Carefully, she cut out a section of the back of the gown to allow freedom for the tiny, soft wings. She knew it was useless, but she wrapped Nadiya in a pink blanket, knowing full well that Hojo would remove it._

_If she would receive heat from then on (it was probably not high on Hojo’s priorities) it would be from a heat lamp, not a soft blanket or the warm, tender arms of her parents._

_She dressed Aidan similarly. He was more active than his sister, who had been trustingly submissive, although confused. He gurgled and waved his little hands and feet, Dr. Calvin smiling sadly at the little boy._

_Hojo came soon afterward._

_Dr. Calvin pushed past him, leaving quickly, unable to bear the thought of what the children would be put through. “One more task,” Hojo reminded her cruelly. She stopped and, bowing her head, turned back to the rooms of Sephiroth and Aralyn to give them the false news that would shatter their world._

_Hojo’s long, cold fingers caressed Nadiya first. The girl seemed to sense the danger, and silently flailed. He grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse, writing down the data on a chart. “Turns out you’ll have your uses after all, number fifty. I have some tests lined up…we’ll begin immediately.”_

_Hojo picked up the boy as well, who began to scream loud enough to cover for both him and his sister._

_It was only the beginning._

~*~*~*~

_Aralyn was screaming._

_Sephiroth had fallen asleep in the rocking chair, and was awakened abruptly by the agonized cries. “No…No!” she screamed. “No it can’t be! Give me my babies back! Give me my children…it isn’t true! It can’t be! No!”_

_Sephiroth’s panic peaked as he ran to the door to find Aralyn and Dr. Calvin in the hallway, both women crying freely. He caught Aralyn as her legs gave out. She was shaking._

_“What happened?” Sephiroth demanded._

_Dr. Calvin was leaning against the wall. “The children…it happens sometimes…no cause known but…they’re…they’re…”_

_Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t believe it. They were strong and healthy six hours ago!”_

_“Sephiroth I’m so sorry…if there’s anything I can do…”_

_Numbly, he managed to pull Aralyn back into the room. “It’s not true…is it?” Her eyes pleaded with his, filled with tears. “They’re just fine, and this is just a dream…”_

_Sephiroth broke down first, clasping his wife and burying his head in her shoulder. It couldn’t be true…it was just a nightmare…_

_But Aralyn’s broken sobs told him that it wasn’t._

_She had been a mother for less than forty-eight hours._

_He had confronted mothers of Soldiers that had been killed, and he had heard many times that no parent should outlive their child. He had known this, but he couldn’t have predicted the magnitude of very real agony that racked both him and his wife._

_They clung together for hours, grasping each other as the pain consumed them. More than once, Aralyn called the names of her children, her voice broken and hoarse._

_Sephiroth was helpless to save himself or his wife from the despair._

~*~*~*~


	73. Farewell

Chapter Seventy-Three: Farewell

_Zack entered the room uninvited. He burst in, full of sunshine and energy and carrying fresh red and white roses. “Good morning to all! And might I say that…oh,” the last syllable was breathed, as all the energy left him. Sephiroth was clutching a shaking Aralyn as she sobbed, streaks of wetness present on his own cheeks as well._

_“What happened?” Zack asked fearfully._

_Sephiroth’s gaze was far away as he looked forlornly at Zack, his voice weak and strained. “The children are dead.”_

_The flowers in Zack’s hands fell to the ground as he stepped back in shock. “How?” he breathed. “They were…last night…!”_

_Aralyn wailed into his chest and he gripped her tighter, stroking her hair and whispering shaky words of encouragement. Words that he needed to hear himself. “Sudden Infant Death Syndrome…there was no warning.”_

_“Both of them?” he asked weakly._

_“Yes…both of them.” The last words were whispered so quietly and mournfully that Zack could barely hear them, though the tone itself broke his heart. His commander closed his eyes again as he battled a foe that even he could not fell._

_“I don’t know what to say,” Zack admitted. “I can’t even fathom what you must be going through. I am…so sorry.” Slowly, he slunk out the door, stepping over the petals of the beautiful, vibrant flowers as he left._

_Outside of their room, an argument was occurring. Aralyn stilled her tears and raised her head, listening, along with her husband._

_“You can’t ask that of him!” Zack protested. “Not now!”_

_The people outside seemed to sense the silence within, and stopped suddenly. “My decision stands,” a voice Sephiroth recognized as Rufus Shinra’s said firmly. “But give them my deepest condolences.”_

_“You filthy rotten--!” Zack stopped himself there, doubtless stemming a long string of curses at his boss. Angrily, he threw open the door._

_“Seph, I really tried to get you out of it, but they’re sending you on a mission.”_

_Sephiroth’s grip on Aralyn noticeably tightened, and Zack wondered how it was that he was not suffocating her. “When?” He began to stroke Aralyn’s hair._

_“We leave tonight. I’m sorry. I tried so hard but Rufus would have none of it!”_

_Sephiroth sighed deeply. “What is the mission?”_

_“We’re going to Nibelheim,” Zack said._

_Aralyn stifled a gasp, as if pained, and Sephiroth turned to her, frightened. She would not show her face, and only shook her head when they asked what was wrong._

_“Should be a piece of cake, just an investigation as far as I heard but still…after this, how can they ask this of you?” Zack continued._

_“Can I ask a favor of you then, Zack?”_

_“Anything.”_

_“Take care of Aralyn. I don’t want her alone. Not now.” He stroked her lovingly, concern and worry poisoning his clear, strong gaze._

_Zack hesitated. “I would give anything, man, but I’m assigned to accompany you.”_

_Sephiroth drew in a sharp breath. “So I am to leave Aralyn alone?”_

_“Yeah…I’m going to kill Rufus! I swear, Seph!”_

_Sephiroth’s eyes remained cold, dead, and mournful. “Let me say goodbye to Aralyn. I will be with you shortly.”_

_“Understood,” Zack said, saluting his general as he detected the change to a formal, military tone. “I’ll see what I can do to distract Ruf—I mean, the scum-bag, sir.”_

_Sephiroth nodded fluidly, not looking toward Zack as he left._

~*~*~*~

_“Don’t go…please, don’t go…” Aralyn pleaded._

_“Aralyn, you know I don’t have a choice.” He spoke gently, rubbing her back in slow circles, trying but failing to soothe her._

_“Take me to Willow Dale, stay…they can’t find us there!”_

_“Aralyn,” he lifted her chin with a finger, turning her eyes to his. With one hand he cradled her chin and with the other he used his thumb to dry her tears. “It will only be a few days.”_

_She didn’t answer, and tried to avert her eyes, but Sephiroth held her firm. “Are you afraid that I’ll be hurt?”_

_“Yes. It’s something that I can’t explain.”_

_“Try,” he urged softly._

_She closed her eyes for a long time. “You promise you won’t laugh?”_

_“Why would I laugh at your pain?”_

_“Seph…I-I’ve dreamed of Nibelheim.” He silently urged her on. “I can’t say what it is, but I feel it’s wrong! I see fires, and so much blood…something terrible will happen there! I’m truly afraid…like I’ve never been before! Don’t go…for me…stay with me!”_

_“A nightmare,” he soothed. “Just a nightmare. It’s all right, now. Nothing’s going to happen. I won’t even have to fight anything other than fiends; it’s just an investigation. Routine procedure, Aralyn. I can’t tell you how many of these I’ve done.”_

_“But there’s something different…something horrible…”_

_“Sephiroth,” Zack peeked his head in. “We have to go,” he reminded apologetically._

_“One moment.”_

_Zack nodded and left._

_Sephiroth grasped his wife and kissed her. He was gentle, afraid to hurt her in her current state, but it was long. Tenderly, he leaned down and whispered in her ear._

_“I love you. Nothing in this world can change that. You are everything to me, and always will be, I swear it, Aralyn. Nothing will ever change that…”_

_She was still shaking when he forced himself to pull away. There was genuine terror in her eyes, and he wondered what could frighten her so._

_“I’ll be back for you Aralyn…I swear it.”_

~*~*~*~


	74. Final Wish

Chapter Seventy-Four: Final Wish

            Aralyn wasn’t on the ground when she woke up.

            She put her palms firmly beneath her and pushed, finding that her hands met with silk, and she lay on something soft. The heavy weights on her body were quilts.

            She was in a bed. _Her_ bed. In Willow Dale. She knew it before she opened her eyes.

            She was surrounded by a sea of scarlet silk, the limits of the bed extending past her outstretched arms. The familiar comforter was a soft, embroidered white, but it had been covered by at least five multi-colored blankets.

            She looked around, confused, wondering if she had passed into the afterlife. She was sure she hadn’t had the strength to rise and walk here after she had collapsed.

            Her answer came as a wet nose peeked its way over the top of the tall bed. It moved around a bit, smelling the air, and then a gray, majestic wolf leapt onto the bed, a dark blue, plaid blanket clasped between its jaws. Carefully, the wolf proceeded to drag one end to the other side and spread it quite evenly using its paws and grabbing and pulling the corners into place with its jaws.

            “Zack?” Aralyn asked.

            The great dog continued with the blanket, but when he was done with his task, he sat on his haunches next to Aralyn, tilting his head to the side and perking his ears up brightly.

            “Is that really you?”

            The wolf shook its head and let its tongue dangle in a comical face. Aralyn laughed softly, reaching up and scratching between Zack’s ears. “How could I have doubted, old friend?”

            He nudged her under the chin with his nose, lifting her head so she didn’t look quite so forlorn. Eyes lighting with approval, he then proceeded to curl up at her feet.

            “Zack?”

            The wolf turned his head.

            “Am I…dead?”

            Zack withdrew his lazily hanging tongue and closed his mouth, raising himself to his paws. He got up close to her and made a gesture that seemed similar to a shake of the head.

            “But it won’t be long…you know that, right?”

            The wolf whimpered, pushing her down from her half-sitting position.

            “Do you know where Sephiroth is, Zack?”

            Unexpectedly, Zack’s lips curled into a snarl, baring canine teeth as a dark, low rumble escaped from deep in his chest. His ears were back, his muscles tense and coiled. She was reminded that a very powerful creature was now her caretaker.

            “Aerith said that I needed to find him.”

            Zack barked violently, shaking her deeply. Rage was in his clear, blue eyes, but Aralyn looked deeper and saw the true driving force: fear.

            She tried to rise yet again but he leapt on her stomach, and Zack was too great a dog to try to fight against. “Zack, please,” she pleaded. “I want to see him…talk to him before I…”

            That struck the wolf hard, she could see it in his eyes. They hadn’t changed from their sky blue color, even now, when he had to take the form of a wolf to walk in the mortal realm. Reluctantly, he withdrew and stood in the doorway, his tail between his legs submissively.

            Aralyn stood shakily and followed the wolf out the door, urging him on when he hesitated. There was a quirk in the canine’s stride that Aralyn couldn’t decipher.

            It didn’t matter. She would see her husband again.

            Even if it killed her.

~*~*~*~

            Vincent managed to slip away from the rest of the group as the trail wound into the denser thickets. Ideally, no one would realize he had gone until he was too far away to be stopped. That was highly likely, as everyone was more concerned about the welfare of Aralyn than on guarding the ex-Turk.

            He was also worried for Aralyn, but for far different reasons.

            He knew that Verian’s tale was, at best, only half true. Whether or not Sephiroth actually had Aralyn in his possession was of little relevance. It wasn’t Sephiroth that endangered Aralyn so greatly. What mainly what worried him was Avalanche.

            What he did know was that Kadaj and Verian would make sure that Aralyn was present for the impending battle.

            That was the one factor that he could control.

            He wasn’t sure if Aralyn would listen to reason, but he had concluded that he wouldn’t… _couldn’t_ …hesitate to use force if necessary. It was better for her to be rendered unconscious and suffer minor bruising than to charge blindly into the imminent battle, where she would surely be killed.

            He ran quickly, not bothering to cover his tracks in the dirt or the trail he left in the greenery around him as he tore through the wood. If someone followed him, the worst that could happen was that they would be led to Aralyn, and he could and would protect her with his life.

            It was pure chance that he had been forced to a dead end by a rivulet of water that trickled serenely over polished rocks. He kneeled and cupped the sweet, frigid water in his hands, partaking quickly but gratefully.

            While he was down, he noticed two sets of tracks along the riverbank. The first was that of a wolf or very large dog, and parallel to those, the prints of a young woman.

            _Zack?_

            He didn’t have time to question. He took off at a dead sprint. The terrain became rockier, and he had to watch his footing, sacrificing precious seconds and hating himself for it.

            It wasn’t enough.

            Distantly, he could hear that the fight between Avalanche and Sephiroth had begun in a clearing. Zack and Aralyn’s footprints deepened with the force their legs had exerted to run into the fray.

            There was no stopping the cataclysm that would occur.

~*~*~*~


	75. Cataclysm's Wake

Chapter Seventy-Five: Cataclysm’s Wake

            The sky was darkening, perhaps mourning for what was to come. Temperatures dropped drastically and thunder roared in the distance, lightning giving Avalanche the occasional clearer glimpse of the thick brush they waded through. Black, rolling clouds veiled the sun and covered the horizon entirely. The thunder grew ever closer.

            No one took any heed.

            The party continued on in tense silence, silently following Cloud, who led the way, sword drawn and ready, his expression able to kill.

            It took an eternity and a day to break into the clearing in which a tall, regal man clad entirely in black stood. Long, shimmering silver hair flowed in the whipping wind, a lethal blade stretching from a gloved hand. The man’s wing was loosely extended from his shoulder blade.

            Sephiroth stared at the group with vivid, fey green eyes, which narrowed to slits as they met with Cloud’s. He didn’t so much as flinch when Cloud charged him, only moved fluidly at the last second to put his sword between Cloud’s blade and his own body.

           With no effort at all, Sephiroth shoved Cloud away, sending the younger man staggering back. There was no emotion on his smooth, pale face.

           Cloud recovered quickly and threw himself at his opponent yet again. This time, he refused to move once their swords locked, resulting in a temporary stalemate. Sephiroth smirked, clearly not putting forth any effort to stay Cloud’s hand while the other pushed with all his might.

          “Where is Aralyn?” Cloud hissed slowly and deliberately, his sword shaking with his fury, his fiery eyes locking with Sephiroth’s calm gaze. “What have you done with her?”

          Sephiroth gave no reaction. “Is that what you came for, then?”

          “That…and to settle my debt.”

          “Oh?” Light flickered in Sephiroth’s emerald eyes, perhaps the only manifestation of his amusement other than the slight upward tilt of his lips.

          “Where is she?!” Cloud roared, forcing his sword upward in hopes of striking his opponent, but Sephiroth simply leaped back agilely, his position ready, but relaxed.

          “I do not know,” Sephiroth said blandly. “Neither does it concern me.”

          Tifa ran forward next, swinging her foot toward Sephiroth’s exposed side, but he dodged the kick, then deftly caught her by the wrist as she attempted to follow up with a punch. He held her captive for several seconds.

          Tifa turned her face up to his, forcing her expression to be as smooth and stern as his. “We know you have her, Sephiroth!”

          Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed as he tossed her aside like a doll. He hummed, clearly disappointed in the performance of his rivals, but they also could sense rising anger. “Why would that girl concern me?”

          “Since when did you need a _reason_ to torment the innocent?” Yuffie shot back as she tossed her shurikan, only to have it be soundly dodged and fly freely, burying itself into a tree. During the time he focused on evading the attack, Cloud leapt behind him and attempted to catch him off guard, but Sephiroth was too fast, whirling around to meet Cloud’s blade with his own Masamune.

          “You’re going to have to get better very quickly if you expect to beat me,” Sephiroth said quietly.

          “Where’s Aralyn?” Cloud demanded again.

          “You still retain the assumption that she is with me?” Sephiroth was fighting strictly defensively, and it was scaring Cloud. This wasn’t like him. He was too calm, too composed. He was planning something. “No; I do not have her,” he continued coolly. “There is your answer. Try to refrain from asking again.”

            “Give it up!” Cid joined in. “Feigning ignorance won’t do you any good!”

            Sephiroth’s expression was something akin to mild indignation. “You may believe what you want. She is no longer with me.”

            Tifa paled considerably. “But she… _was_?” she whispered, fearful of the implication. Sephiroth could not hear, or if he did, he didn’t respond.

            “What is it to you, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked. “The life of one woman. Aren’t you surrounded by enough as it is?”

          Cloud didn’t wait any longer, lashing out at the General with everything he had. They moved quicker than anyone could follow, swords clashing again and again, the sheer force of the blows sending sparks to shower the area. Sephiroth clearly held the upper hand throughout, seeming to play along with Cloud rather than expend the energy to dominate. He was smiling now, his eyes shining with snide humor.

          Avalanche couldn’t enter the fight to help their friend; they were moving much too fast. They soared through the skies, under the trees, at times maneuvering out of their range of vision in their intricate dance.

          One that came to an abrupt end.

          None of them could tell anything except that Cloud’s lips had moved, forming nameless words meant only for Sephiroth. The light in Sephiroth’s eyes had turned to flat malice, and the smile vanished. Tifa cried out, sensing the danger, but there was nothing she could do.

          In a blur of rage that frightened the breath out of everyone, Sephiroth unleashed a series of devastating attacks that forced Cloud to his knees. Once Cloud had fallen, there was another silver streak, and then Cloud was pinned with his back against a tree, held a foot above the ground, one of Sephiroth’s hands clenched around his throat while the other balanced Masamune perpendicular to his heart. He was breathing heavily, refusing to meet Sephiroth’s furious eyes.

          “Sephiroth!” a voice screamed. “Sephiroth, stop it!”

          Sephiroth’s rage temporarily abated. He put a few more inches between his blade and Cloud’s body, looking back, his face still composed.

          “ _Sephiroth!”_

          The Masamune fell, and Sephiroth staggered back, his expression one of shock and untold pain.

          “Aralyn,” he breathed.

          Cloud didn’t let this lapse in his opponent’s defenses pass him by.

          A large gray wolf tackled the blonde man to the ground, then proceeded to growl and snarl at any member of Avalanche who dared to approach. Vincent was now in the clearing, his gun loaded and ready, aimed in Avalanche’s direction.

          It didn’t matter. The damage had been done.

          Sephiroth’s eyes were wide as he slowly eased the large blade from his side, gasping as it slid free. He fell to his knees, blood spilling from the corners of his lips, then, with a shudder, collapsed to the ground.

          Cloud, blinded by rage and the prospect of victory, of ending it all, hit the wolf aside, causing a faint whimper from the animal as it was sent sprawling away. Seizing his sword, he gave a mighty battle cry and raised the blade far above his head.

          Aralyn threw herself in the path of the descending blade, over Sephiroth’s fallen body, her arms locked around his neck as she shielded his heart with her own. Tears fell from her eyes as she pulled her husband closer, the wedding band on her finger clearly glinting in the moonlight as she lay, ready to die, hand in hand, with the man who had betrayed her.

          Shock numbed Cloud’s hands, causing the blade to fly harmlessly to the side, sparing the lovers if only for a moment longer.

 _Aralyn shrugged sadly and began to rub away at a grease stain. “Pathetic, isn’t it?” She smiled grimly, laughing silently at some morbid joke. “You’d think I’d want to part ways after he left me…especially after he left me like he did…” She fingered her wedding band. “Yes, I still love him. He was…he_ is _…everything to me.”_

          The memory rang in everyone’s mind as they stared at Aralyn, who was clinging to Sephiroth, burying her head in his shoulders. The stark reality came down as a severe blow.

          Avalanche looked on in silence at the woman they had known and loved for months.

          The woman who was the wife of Sephiroth.

~*~*~*~


	76. Abandoned

Chapter Seventy-Six: Abandoned

            No one dared to move or speak. The only sounds that echoed against the night were Sephiroth’s heavy, labored breaths. The wolf picked himself up and purposely strode between Avalanche and the couple, baring his fangs and growling deep and threateningly. Vincent didn’t lower his gun, which was aimed at his own comrades.

            “A-Aralyn,” Tifa finally breathed. “What are you…?”

            “Filthy little _snitch_!” Cid yelled accusingly, breaking the quiet with his violent outburst. “Figures that she would be working for _him_!”

            The wolf barked loudly, stunning everyone who had become so used to the silence. The growls became louder and more dangerous, and he didn’t hesitate to roar again if anyone so much as flinched.

            “Cloud,” Aralyn pleaded, not releasing Sephiroth’s body but raising her head to meet his eyes. “Tifa…I—“

            “You have nothing to apologize for,” Cloud interrupted violently, his voice breaking with rage. “It was all an act, and that’s all that matters.”

            “No! Cloud, believe me I—“

            “How long have you been conspiring?” Yuffie shouted.

            “I never—“

            Cid made the mistake of advancing toward Aralyn, spear raised high. Another savage roar rang through the glade, louder this time, shaking everyone to their bones. Crimson wispy auras blinded the party, and when they could see again, they found a black winged demon pinning their comrade down.

            “Do not touch her,” Vincent, now Chaos, warned slowly, his eyes burning venomous yellow. “Do not touch _either_ of them.”

            It was hard to deny this terrifying demon his request, but Barret chose to do so. Aralyn cried, but did not struggle, as the man pried her from her husband, gripping her by the neck and holding her above the ground, ignoring her choked sobs.

            “ _Let her go!_ ” Chaos roared, charging Barret, but in his haste exposing his back to Cid. With one quick stroke, Cid rammed the blunt end of his spear across the demon’s back, causing Chaos to crumple to the ground.

            The next one to advance was Cloud. Barret dropped Aralyn and let her crumple at Cloud’s feet. Cloud stood beside her, not offering a hand to her.

            “Why did you do this?” he asked, seemingly calm, but truly suppressing his anger.

            Aralyn did not rise, but looked up to meet him. He stepped back upon seeing her all too pale face and sunken, ashy cheeks. Her lips were tinted with the lightest blue and her eyes were glassy and far away.

            He was reminded that her life was slowly slipping away.

            She was dying.

            The wolf approached again, standing beside her like a guard. “Zack?” Cloud asked, disbelieving.

            The wolf nodded its head.

            “Then why are you siding with her?” Cloud screamed, suddenly losing his grip. “With _him_?” He gestured angrily to the fallen silver haired man who lay immobile beside Aralyn, who protectively wrapped her arms around him.

            Zack tenderly brushed up against Aralyn, his meaning clear. Sephiroth, the man who had been a dear friend to him, was lost, his heart and soul long ago consumed by the being that had claimed to be his mother. Aralyn, however, his beloved wife and cherished angel, still lived.

            Cloud lowered to his knees, resting his blade on the ground. Zack winced, even in dog form, as he saw the deep red blood that stained his old sword, the blood of Sephiroth, his dearest friend. “I can’t say I am sorry for what we’ve done,” he said quietly to Aralyn. “But we will leave. Do not…I don’t ever want to see you again.”

            “I understand,” Aralyn replied.

            Cloud pivoted and ran away, none of the anger having disappeared.

            He was not forgiving her on any level, and everyone knew it.

            Cid and Barret turned, the latter turning Yuffie away while Tifa was left staring on. “We just leave him?” Yuffie protested.

            “Does he look like he’s getting up any time soon?” Barret asked, not bothering to hide his bitter remark from Aralyn. “Bet you one hundred gil he’s dead within the hour.”

            Tifa stood mute, meeting Aralyn’s sorrowful eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but every time she tried, all that came was air.

            “Go,” Aralyn whispered. “Forget me. Live your lives in peace…I hold no grudge against you.”

            And as Tifa watched the pale, dying girl cradle the most cruel and merciless man in the world in her frail arms, stroking his hair and whispering gentle words even as her tears fell unabated, not for her own agony, but for his, she knew that Aralyn meant every word of it.

            “Vincent,” she managed, not addressing the demon Chaos, but the man within. “Take care of her.”

            The harsh glare softened and Chaos nodded. Before she left, she witnessed the demon slowly transform back into Vincent’s normal form.

            She blamed the shock of it all. If it hadn’t come so suddenly, they wouldn’t have acted the way they did, she told herself.

            If things hadn’t turned out the way they had…

            Tifa wasn’t aware of the venomous catlike eyes that followed her, grinning. Kadaj, in stark contrast, had no regrets. In fact, it had gone far better than he had planned.

~*~*~*~


	77. Against Fate

Chapter Seventy-Seven: Against Fate

            Vincent would never remember how, but somehow, they had made it to Willow Dale.

            Aralyn was at loath to release Sephiroth from her arms, but she couldn’t carry him, and so had to submit. She had been surprised as Vincent carefully lifted her husband.

            “Why are you helping us?” she had asked. “I can understand if you…”

            “This is beyond me,” Vincent insisted as the rain began to fall.

            Aralyn had led the way, Zack trailing behind her, occasionally slipping away to scout ahead. Well past midnight, the party slipped past the threshold to the hidden home, drenched and frozen to the bone.

            She turned on the lights and quickly led Vincent down the hall. “Put him in here,” she said softly. “I’ll get medicine and bandages.” She scurried off to perform the task.

            Vincent laid Sephiroth on the crimson sheets, noting that a small breath escaped his lips. He was hanging on somehow.

            Aralyn returned and climbed onto the large bed. She was able to sit comfortably beside him with room for Vincent as well. Working quickly, she unfastened the clasps on Sephiroth’s coat, peeling the fabric away where it had been plastered to his skin, and tossed the article aside, revealing the long, dark wound. Vincent grimaced; it was worse than it had originally looked.

            Aralyn dipped a cloth in a bowl of warm water, gently pressing it to his side and holding it until the crimson soaked most of the white fabric. She moved quickly, but lovingly, cleaning the wound as best she could with worry in her eyes. After most of the blood was gone, she took out a balm and spread it generously around the area. She applied another medicine that was meant to ease the pain, and then an antibacterial.

            “I’ll bind it,” Vincent said.

            Aralyn moved aside to allow passage, maneuvering toward his head. She got another cloth and began to dab at the blood that trickled from his mouth, then wiped the sweat from his smooth, pale face. When she was done, his face gleaming with the thin layer of soothing water, she laid beside him, stroking his cheek and forehead with tentative fingers. Her lips moved, forming words, but Vincent could not hear them.

            Vincent wasn’t afraid of binding it too tightly, as cutting off Sephiroth’s circulation was the least of his concerns. He worked with rapid precision until his entire torso was covered in the white cloth. He tied the loose ends at the top, and then circled around the wound again, as the red was already beginning to seep through.

            Zack sat in the doorway, keeping silent vigil.

            “We’ve done all we can,” Vincent said, pulling away. “The rest is up to him.”

            Aralyn nodded, not taking her eyes from Sephiroth. Worry creased her face and there were dark circles under her eyes.

            “I’ll leave the two of you,” he continued, climbing off the bed. “If you need anything, call.”

            “You can stay in the spare room,” Aralyn offered. “It hasn’t been used in years, but it’s yours, if you want it.”

            Vincent looked across the hall to find a closed door, the knob collecting dust. “It will do.”

~*~*~*~

            Aralyn moved closer to Sephiroth, laying her forehead against his. She laid there, still, content to listen to his shallow breathing, for what seemed to be a taste of her past.

            She knew that Sephiroth had changed; he was a murderer now, but she couldn’t restrain the emotions that gripped her any longer. Leaning closer still, she pressed her lips against his cold ones, and kissed him.

            What had she expected? A fight? Would he lash out at her?

            Certainly, though, she had not expected a passionate, though drained return to her chaste and longing kiss.

            Her heart stopped, and in shock she pulled away. Had he been in the grip of an illusion? Could he comprehend what it was he had just done?

            “Sephiroth,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hands. “My angel…oh, what have they done to you?”

            For the first time in years, she curled up against his unconscious form and laid her head over his heart so she could feel the life pulsing through his veins. She took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers even though his remained limp and lifeless.

            “Oh, my angel…” she called as she cried.

~*~*~*~


	78. A New Start

Chapter Seventy-Eight: A New Start

            Aerith was startled to see Zack so solemn for once. Even before he turned from his wolf form back to his normal self, she could see how tense and tight his muscles were. As he morphed, the scowl only deepened.

            “Have you seen what was stuck in between?” he asked, his voice grave.

            “No…why?”

            “See for yourself.”

            This wasn’t a rare occurrence. Souls often strayed as they passed from life to death. It was up to Zack and Aerith to guide them to the beyond, where they could rest.

            So why so solemn? The souls were sometimes badly frightened, but Zack had shouldered the burden before, smiling and joking until even the lost soul was laughing. Maybe it was a child? He always took the deaths of infants the hardest.

            But the souls in question were too large to be children. A young man and a young woman lay in the river, their legs immersed as their upper bodies lay limp on the sandy riverbed. Their hands were clasped tightly together, and they had drawn so close that for a moment it seemed as if they might be one.

            It didn’t take long for Aerith to find what had disturbed Zack so. The man’s long hair, veiling half of his pale face, was a glimmering silver hue. A long gash ran through his stomach and there were many more cuts across his body, causing the river around him to flow away crimson.

            “Yazoo?” Aerith asked for confirmation. “Then who is this…?”

            Cautiously, she tried to examine the woman, causing Yazoo to startle, hugging her close to him, shielding her with his battered and bruised arms. Zack stepped in, tenderly prying the woman away so Aerith could see her clearly.

            “Aralyn?” she asked, alarmed.           

            “No…her remnant. Vega. Which means that Aralyn’s sure to follow before long.”

            Aerith nodded, sensing that Zack’s trouble came on two accounts. He had often told her of Aralyn and how dear a friend she had been to him.

            “We have to send them back, Zack.”

            Zack’s eyes flared, not an expression usually seen on the easy-going man’s face. “I will escort Vega back to life, but Yazoo will stay here, in death.”

            “You feel the need to send them _both_ back as well as I do,” Aerith persisted.

            Zack lifted Vega and faced toward the end of the river that would lead them to the realm of the living. “Take him further in, where he can’t get out…”

            “No…” a frail voice whispered.

            Zack looked down at Vega, who was struggling to open her eyes. “No, please…give him…a second chance.”

            “Zack,” Aerith warned. “The wish of a dying woman is a powerful thing.”

            “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

            “I think she knows better than you do, and that’s why she asked.”

            Zack stood immobile for a long time, the river flowing on at his ankles. “Take Yazoo,” he finally said. “Have them clasp hands. Let them return together. To life. Send them to your chapel, where we can keep an eye on them until they recover.”

            Aerith smiled as she gathered the remnant. “Someday, we’ll understand exactly why we did this. Until then, we can only assume that it was meant for the best.”

~*~*~*~


	79. Dedication

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Dedication

            In the morning, Vincent found Aralyn in the kitchen, kneeling beside a large but relatively shallow vat of scalding water. Not seeing him, she proceeded to pour copious amounts of soap into the water, swirling her hand in the depths to form a frothy lather. Her hand came out red, stung by both the heat and the soap. He winced just watching her.

            Still heedless of his presence, she held a wooden slate for washing in one hand and Sephiroth’s cloak in the other. She gently dipped both the slate and the coat in the water, and then vigorously scrubbed the cloth against it, trying to remove the darker blotches of blood.

            It was many cycles of scrubbing, then holding it up for careful examination, before she nodded in approval. Vincent couldn’t tell what had made this run-through any more successful; by his reasoning, the cloak had been clean three repetitions ago.

            “Oh, good morning Vincent,” Aralyn sounded pained and fatigued. Her voice was weak and breathy. He doubted she had slept at all.

            Vincent nodded his greetings. “Is he all right?”

            “I don’t know…” It came out as a whisper, and she turned so he could no longer see the anguish in her eyes. Rising to her feet, she walked out the front door, carrying the sopping wet cloak in her arms. Vincent watched as she carefully hung it on a clothesline, making sure that it hung straight so it would not dry wrinkled.

            Silently, she went back into the bedroom. Vincent peered in to find her stripping away the old bandages and cleaning the wound of excess medicines. When the ointments were cleared and the bloodied cloths removed, she applied new medicines and bandages with the same tender hands.

Vincent was pleased to note that the bleeding appeared to have stopped, and Sephiroth’s chest rose and fell regularly. Whether or not that would be enough to save him was beyond his judgment.

            Before the cloak was dried, he witnessed her change his bandages twice more. With the repetition did not come sloppiness; she always tended to him with the utmost care.

            She only left his side once, and that was at twilight to gather the coat from the clothesline. Returning to the bedroom, she took out a needle and black thread and began to sew the gashes in the cloth. The stitches were tight and nearly invisible. He doubted that anyone would ever be able to tell that it had been ripped after such thorough mending. Her handiwork displayed the same perfection that she had expected with her washing.

            “Vincent,” she asked, raising her head from her strenuous sewing. “Do you think we could feed him a simple broth?”

            “We can try,” was Vincent’s reply. “It can’t hurt, at any rate.”

            So during the next hours she switched off between sewing, changing bandages, and dribbling broth through his lips. Often times Sephiroth rejected the liquid altogether, but there were occasions when small fractions passed into his mouth instead of dribbling down his jaw. As Aralyn continued diligently, he was taking in more and more before turning his head aside, which was the signal that he’d had his fill. Sometimes she was even able to coax him out of this rejection using simple words and delicate hands, encouraging him to swallow just a little more.

            Vincent knew that she didn’t sleep at all that night.

            In the morning, Sephiroth was besieged by fever.

            This worried Aralyn to the point where her cheeks were colorless. They both knew without speaking that if Sephiroth had become infected, he was done for.

            Aralyn had stripped the blankets and sheets from the bed and brought in a fan, but he was still flushed crimson, soaked in sweat even as he shivered. She was constantly at his side, doing all she possibly could. Instead of broth, she gave him cool water, and constantly mopped the sweat from his face and arms. She often spoke to him, as if he could hear her. Once, when Sephiroth’s fever had peaked to levels that no human body should be able to withstand, he heard Aralyn’s shaking voice singing a soothing melody to the fierce warrior.

            Sephiroth quickly became delusional, and often called out a name that Vincent couldn’t hear in a voice that was as soft and timid as a child’s. He had assumed that Sephiroth called for Jenova by the way Aralyn cried when he spoke, but only once when he got closer did he hear the word that Sephiroth moaned through his vicious fever.

            “Aralyn…”

            In the throes of the worst of his pain, it was not Jenova he called for, but his wife.

            “I’m here!” she cried over and over again. “Sephiroth, I’m here! Can’t you feel me? I’m here!”

            His eyes were open now, the flames of fever making them shine with a deadly light. He looked right at Aralyn, but his eyes were unseeing. He moaned her name through dry and cracked lips, not knowing that she was the one who was striving so hard to ease his pain.

            Even when the fever broke, he continued to call for her. Aralyn could do nothing but hold him close to her, answering every time even though he never heard.

            Aralyn remained confused as to what was tormenting her husband so when his wound was closing nicely and he was no longer besought by illness.

            Vincent knew that it was Jenova.

~*~*~*~


	80. Internal Struggle

Chapter Eighty: Internal Struggle

            Sephiroth was no stranger to pain. His entire childhood had been spent in a laboratory, his life at the mercy of merciless scientists that had frequently experimented on his young body. Contrary to the belief of most, for the vast majority of the cases the long, deep scars that covered his body were not earned in battle. Tiny, sterile knives had slowly and deliberately inflicted these scars.

            But he had never felt any pain like this.

            The fever was the least of his concerns, though it did sap his strength and burn away much of his rational thought. He was aware that his lips were moving, but he could neither see nor feel the word he spoke until much later.

            He was calling for Aralyn.

            It was a relief when he could open his eyes to the darkness of Willow Dale at night. His entire body was drenched in a thin layer of sweat, but this had not been the effect of a fever, but the result of a monumental struggle.

             Aralyn was curled at his side, a wet cloth still clenched in her hand. Her chest rose and fell softly; the gentle music of her breathing was the only noise in the room. Willow Dale was a stark contrast to the world of pain and fire that he had just managed to flee from.

 He was still breathing heavily, taking in the cool, sweet air in relief. At least by awakening he had won a small battle.

            He collapsed back against the pillows, trying to recapture his breath. Even now, in the idyllic serenity of Willow Dale, he could hear Jenova.

            _My son, why do you fight?_

            He shuddered at the voice that consumed him and filled his veins with a passionate bloodlust for the woman lying beside him. His hands, not obeying his own will, reached forward to seize Aralyn. He gasped and forced his body to roll away. He was literally paralyzed by white-hot pain for his resistance.

            He could do nothing but wait until his fierce punishment relented.

            Jenova’s voice was soft and loving. _My son…why?_

            _Mother…do not ask this of me. Anything else in the world, it is yours, but please …not this…_

The pain came again, and when he regained his senses he found that he had writhed to an extent that he had fallen to the floor. Blood, hot and bitter, rose in his mouth and his entire body felt as if it were in flames.

            _She couldn’t even give you an heir!_ Jenova shrieked. _If you desire a female, then take another!_

            He drew himself to his knees and clutched his head, fighting against the entity within his mind.

            And then, suddenly, he was surrounded in mist. He was warm, and something was soothing his aching body. _Aralyn…?_

            But it was Jenova’s voice that responded in tender, subtle tones. _Do you doubt me, my son?_

            Sephiroth couldn’t answer, not with this burning in his soul. This was his mother. He couldn’t deny her. Not after her arms had shielded him for these last years, not after it was her that had opened his eyes to the truth of his very being…!

            _Then why do you resist? Why do you cry for the frail human?_ The mist began to shift, making Sephiroth feel as if the waves were lapping at him, consuming his pain as they swept over his being and still clutching it as they waned away. _My son, she has blinded you. You deserve far better than this filth._

            Some part of Sephiroth wanted to resist, but he found himself incapable.

            _Which is why I must do this, my son._

            That was his final warning.

            Using a tremendous amount of strength that he didn’t know he had possessed in his weakened state, he seized control of his body, finding that he had acted with only a second to spare.

            In the dream-like trance, Jenova had controlled his submissive body. He found Masamune bared in his hands, gleaming in the moonlight, a whisper above Aralyn’s pale throat.

            He threw himself back against the wall, flinging the Masamune a length away, before the searing pain consumed him again.

            _Why do you do this, Sephiroth?!_ Jenova was far beyond rage, her shrieks striking Sephiroth to the bone.

            He could no longer breathe as a tendril of power wrapped itself around his throat and constricted.

            _Leave me…_ Sephiroth began, calling on the last reserves of power that he possessed. _Leave me!_ He screamed with all his might.

            He was released, allowed to fall limp on the floor, rolling over onto his stomach, gasping and choking. Sweat rolled down his face, plastering his silver hair to him.

            It was a long time before he could rise to his knees, and then several more minutes with the assistance of the bedside to pull himself to his feet.

            Aralyn lay silent in the bed, unaware of the torment Sephiroth had just endured. Her face was peaceful in the moonlight, though her cheeks were the color of ash and dark circles tainted her eyes.

            She was, nevertheless, the most beautiful sight he could ever have asked for. It had been years since he had felt the passionate longing to take her in his arms.

            He forced himself to turn his back as she cried out, further proof that the sickness was taking hold. As she moaned, he stood unmoving, though her cries went through him like physical pain.

            Only when she fell silent did he gather his neatly folded cloak, slipping his arms into the sleeves and fastening the clasps. He sheathed Masamune at his side and slowly exited the room, only glancing back once.

            As he was halfway out the front door, he heard the whisper of fabric. He didn’t turn, but spoke in a dead, haunting voice.

            “Valentine.”

            He didn’t need to hear any sound to sense Vincent’s presence.

            “If I return, you must kill me.”

            That was all he said before he spread his wing and rose into the black sky.

            His best bet was to stay as far away from Aralyn as possible, for he knew that Jenova had not retreated for long, and had most certainly not altered her goal in any way other than to make Aralyn’s demise much more brutal.

~*~*~*~


	81. Slipping Away

Chapter Eighty-One: Slipping Away

            “He’s gone…isn’t he?” Aralyn was staring up at the ceiling, her face free of expression. She hadn’t moved from that position since she had awoken to find herself alone.

            Vincent hesitated, but nodded in answer to her question.

The light that had been in her eyes the last few days was dimmed, and she frowned. “Why?” she asked, whispering.

            He didn’t answer.

            Aralyn closed her eyes and became still, as if sleeping. “I knew…it couldn’t last.”

Vincent was about to leave when she opened her eyes again. “Could you help me up?”

            Vincent extended his hands and let her cold fingers wrap around them before he gently pulled her into a sitting position. She put her hands on the side of her head to ward off the dizziness, and closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments. After that, she took his hands again and accepted his help as she slid off the bed to her feet. “He got his cloak?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

            “Yes,” he replied. 

            “Did he take some food at least? Or something to keep him warm?”

            “Aralyn,” Vincent said firmly, attracting her confused gaze. “Sephiroth can take care of himself.”

            “I know,” she answered after a short respite. “I’m being irrational. I’m sorry.”

            “There is nothing to apologize for,” he assured her. “But come and eat, you need your strength.”

            She did need all the nourishment she could get. The sleepless nights of tending to her husband had left dark circles under her eyes, and she bent over with hunger cramps from time to time, proving that she had not eaten in days. She had lost weight from the combined effects of hunger and stress.

            She ate only sparingly, more often thoughtfully drawing her spoon through the soup than actually partaking. Vincent let it go, knowing that her appetite would return with time, when she’d had time to recover from the shock of the past few days.

            “Was your room all right?” Aralyn asked.

            Vincent paused, taking time to set down his spoon and swallow before he replied. “I was not aware that you and Sephiroth had a child.”

            Aralyn lowered her eyes. “Yes, that was to be their room.”

            Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Their?” he asked.

            “Twins,” she breathed. “A boy and a girl…Aidan and Nadiya…”

            He knew by her silent tears that neither was with her today. He didn’t ask for further details, seeing how it pained her. “I am truly sorry,” Vincent said.

            She rose to her feet, entering the room where Vincent had stayed and bringing out a small photo album. She held it out to him. “These were taken just after they were born. It’s the only thing I have of them.”

            Vincent looked at pictures of the boy, who was seemingly healthy in size. His tiny body was clothed entirely in a soft blue and his hair, though thin and wispy, was unmistakably silver. His cheeks were flushed with life, and he looked so very much like his father. The other child, the girl, was terribly small, with lips tinted blue, had two small wings extending from her back. Her hair was also silver, and a tiny pink ribbon bow had been tied into it. The pictures could not hide the cruel wires that ran into her fist. Even so, she was as beautiful as her radiant mother.

            Aralyn and Vincent looked at the pictures in silence, viewing images of a budding future that had never been able to blossom. They looked at Zack, who held Aidan, giving the boy bunny ears with his fingers as he grinned widely. In the shot of him and Nadiya, he was noticeably more calm and gentle. There was a shot of Sephiroth and Aralyn slumbering with the two children between them. In another, Nadiya’s tiny fingers were wrapped around her father’s. In the very last photo, the one preserved with the most care, Sephiroth cradled his entire family in both his arms and his single wing as he kissed his wife.   

            “They are beautiful,” he said.

            Aralyn smiled sadly. “They are.” She took the album back before she returned to the table. She picked up Vincent’s empty bowl and her own, which was still mostly full, and set them in the sink.

            Vincent noticed her swoon as she turned on the water, her breathing suddenly heavier as she clutched her head.

            “Aralyn!” Vincent called, rushing forward to catch her as she crumpled.

            That was the first sign that her life was drawing to its end.

~*~*~*~


	82. Eternity

Chapter Eighty-Two: Eternity

            Vincent never thought twice about being Aralyn’s caretaker. He couldn’t bear the thought of her dying alone, forgotten, despised by those whom she had freely loved. Now, as her body was deteriorating, she needed a friend more than ever.

            It was no longer a question of _if_ she would die, he thought as he laid her in the bed and pulled the covers around her, it was a matter of _when_. The bed he was laying her in would be her deathbed. It didn’t matter what kind of care he gave her, no amount of nurturing would spare her from her fate.

            That didn’t stop him from trying.

~*~*~*~

            Aralyn knew that her demise was near.

            Sometimes, on the rare occasion that she was awake, they would speak. For a while, they carefully avoided the subject of her state of being, but on the third day since her fall, she confronted the matter.

            “Vincent, I’m afraid to die.”

            Vincent placed the cup against her lips and tilted it back, making sure she swallowed before responding. “I don’t know any comforting words to give you, Aralyn. I’m sorry.”

            Aralyn gave a wry half-smile. “You’ll never have to worry about this…will you?” She looked him earnestly in the eyes. “You’re immortal. You’ll live forever.”

            “Forever is a long time to be in pain, Aralyn,” he replied.

            “I just…I just wish he was here. He promised…he was going to be my angel…he told me he was going to be by my side…he _promised_ …”

            She didn’t say any more, but he stayed by her side until her breathing was steady and even. She had fallen into a troublesome sleep.

            He returned after a few hours with more food. He set it on her bedside table and gently put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. “Aralyn, you need to eat.”

            There was no response from her, even after he persisted for more than a minute.

            He took both his hands on her shoulders, unaware of how tight his grip had become. He shook her as much as he dared, nearing the point of violence. “Aralyn,” he called, stronger this time. “Aralyn, wake up!”

            Her head lolled to the side limply and the tiniest breath escaped her lips. She didn’t respond other than that.

            She had slipped into a coma while he was away.

            There was only one final gift he could give her.

~*~*~*~

            Things were quiet at the Seventh Heaven after the encounter. Cloud never had anything but a deep scowl on his face, and he often disappeared for long lengths of time before showing up again, sleepless, agonized, exhausted. Everyone went through their work fluidly, silently, every second seemingly an eternity.

            When they did speak, it most certainly wasn’t about the battle with Sephiroth.

            Marlene was playing half-heartedly with her stuffed moogle, flopping the pompom back and forth as if bored, when Cloud came in after one of his ventures. Marlene got to her feet and silently threw her arms around his legs, her face barely coming up to his thigh. He paused, seeming taken aback, but then reached down and ruffled her hair. “Hey, Marlene.”

            Tifa looked up from the dishes and gave Cloud the biggest smile she could muster, which was still painfully small. “Back so soon?”

            Cloud nodded, his gaze still far off, and ascended the stairs, not greeting any of the others.

            He didn’t come back down until the next morning, but when he did, Tifa was relieved to see an expression other than anger or sorrow on his features. Now, he was simply and unmistakably confused. 

            “Was Vincent here?”

            Tifa frowned. “Not that I know of. Why?”

            “He left me his phone…and took mine.” Cloud held up the thin phone, painted with the silver emblem of Cerberus. “He left a note. Said that he’d get it back soon, and that he owed me one.”

            “That makes no sense,” Yuffie pointed out. “His phone is just as capable of making a call as yours is. And he could have come in here and _asked_ like a half-respectable person!”

            “Why would he take your phone?”

            No one could answer.

~*~*~*~

            It had taken Vincent nearly an hour, but his suspicions had proved correct. He had to dig through megabytes of stored calls to find it, but he had succeeded. He was thankful that Cloud was slothful when it came to cleaning out his phone’s memory.

            Without it, he would never have been able to locate Sephiroth’s number.

            It was odd to think that the General carried a phone, and even more strange to believe that once, before Nibelheim, Cloud and Sephiroth had been in contact because of the missions they served on together.

            But it was the only way he knew of. Searching was out of the question; Sephiroth could be anywhere in Gaia by now.

            He dialed without a second thought.

            Vincent reached the answering machine three times before Sephiroth got the idea that he was not going to give up. “What?” Sephiroth said briskly.

            “It’s about Aralyn.”

            The irritability seemed swept away from the General’s voice. The line was silent for a long time; so long that Vincent thought that Sephiroth had hung up. “What about her?” Sephiroth finally managed.

~*~*~*~


	83. Breathe a Little Longer

Chapter Eighty-Three: Breathe a Little Longer

            Aralyn was still unconscious as Vincent wrapped her body in multiple blankets. Her breathing was shallow, and he had never seen her skin so transparent. Her lips were visibly blue.

            He lifted her gently, balancing her against him. After checking for the small movements of her chest that were her only signs of life, he carried her outside and began the voyage to the clearing in the Forgotten City.

            Sephiroth was waiting there.

            “Is there anything I can do?” Sephiroth asked as Vincent approached.

            “Yes,” Vincent admitted.

            It was the wrong thing to say. Sephiroth’s eyes, which had been dark, lightened with hope. “No,” Vincent corrected. “Nothing can be done to save her. All you can do now is ease her pain until she passes.”

            Sephiroth stood aloof for a long time before he extended his arms. “Give her to me.”

            Vincent placed the limp Aralyn in Sephiroth’s arms. Slowly, he pulled her body in toward him, holding her close to his chest. He turned and sat at the foot of the white weeping willow tree, tenderly lying her body on the grass. With only the tips of his fingers and using the lightest touch, he brushed the blankets away from her face.

            Vincent stepped away, letting the two share their last moment together in peace.

~*~*~*~

            She knew those hands that caressed her so softly.

            She knew them because they had been the ones that had clasped hers in the chapel as they had exchanged their vows. They had protected her countless times, eased her through the discomfort of pregnancy, and held the tiny lives that she had struggled to bring into the world.

            She knew without opening her eyes that Sephiroth was holding her. She knew it was his hands that stroked her face and his voice that called for her to arise.

            “Sephi…?” she rasped. The effort proved too much, and the attempt brought on a fit of coughing that shook her entire body. She turned on her side and curled into herself, her stomach cramping against the violent attacks, making it harder to gasp in what little air the coughs would permit her to take.

            Sephiroth clenched her closer, moving his hand in fluid circles on her back as he whispered to her.

            “Yes,” he said as she went lax in his arms. “I’m here.”

            Aralyn opened her eyes to meet his emerald gaze, his silver brows knit. She shivered involuntarily. Jenova was not present in his eyes. She was not looking at the puppet of the alien that clamed to be his mother, but Sephiroth, her husband and her angel, as he had always been.

            It was the greatest gift she could have asked for.

            She reached a hand up and stroked his cold, pale cheek, still not fully convinced that this was real. He didn’t move as she ran her fingers through his silver hair. Gravity, however, seemed to be pushing much harder on her now, and she was forced to pull back.

            “Why did you come?” she whispered, still delving into the emerald depths of his eyes.

            He didn’t answer, but as another fit of coughing besieged her he extended his large, dark wing, laid down beside her, and draped his wing over her body, shielding Aralyn from the bite of the cold. The soft feathers warmed her, but sent chills down her spine at the same time.

            Aralyn looked at him gratefully through eyes blurred by tears. Taking his gloved thumb, Sephiroth gently rubbed under her eyes, clearing her vision. “Don’t cry,” he said.

            It no longer made any difference if she could see or not, the world was spinning too quickly for it to make a difference. Perhaps it would have been better if she had been blind. She gasped in pain and let her head fall back, now letting it rest on his arm. It was getting harder to breathe.

            “Easy,” Sephiroth coaxed, putting a hand over her heart. He sounded truly concerned and frightened, like a little child. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.”

            “It won’t make a difference…I’m going to die.”

            “Don’t talk like that!” The air rang with the outburst, startling Aralyn with the ferocity, causing her to wince.

            It was worse than any physical ailment for Aralyn to hear the great General’s voice tainted with such fear and pain. His hand was no longer steady.

            She smiled and leaned against his chest. “I am happy, Sephiroth. I’m in the arms of my angel. I couldn’t ask for anything more…”

            “Stop this madness, Aralyn,” he whispered harshly.

            “Promise me…promise me that you will live…”

            “Aralyn, stop!”

            “That’s all I ask of you. Live, my angel.”

            He sat up, and gingerly moved her so she was lying in his lap. He was gripping her arms so tightly that she could no longer feel her fingers. That was a good thing, as a fiery sensation was sparking in her blood. She couldn’t suppress a cry of pain as it spread, and her back arched.

            But she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

            “Aralyn, can you hear me?” He was shaking her, speaking loudly and frantically.

            “Yes…I can,” she choked.

            “Please…don’t…! You can’t…!”

            The pain was fading, replaced by a calm, cool sensation. She fell lax against him once more, the fall softened by his wing, and used the last of her strength to look up into her husband’s eyes.

            “My angel…” she breathed, and then her heart stopped.

~*~*~*~

            “Aralyn!”

            Vincent stood a ways off, his back turned, his view veiled by the white trees. At the cry, he lowered his head, his shoulders shaking despite himself.

            “Aralyn! Aralyn, get up! No… _no_ …please… _no_ …someone… _anyone_ …Aralyn… _Aralyn!”_

            He knew by the General’s anguished cries that it was over.

            Vincent didn’t try to stop his warm tears from flowing.

~*~*~*~


	84. Live for Her

Chapter Eighty-Four: Live for Her

            Sephiroth had never flown so fast.

            He was suffocating, even though the air flew past him in quantities great enough to sustain him. Aralyn’s cold body seemed like a lead weight, not to his body, but to his heart. He had only felt pain like this once before, and he was weakened by the waves of grief. His years of hiding his emotions did him no good; his eyes were already blurring with tears.

            But he wouldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t lose her.

            Not again.

            He was flying, achieving speeds he never had before, but not satisfying the urgency he felt. The hand that was placed over Aralyn’s heart searched constantly for a pulse…something, _anything_ to prove that she was still alive, that she would make it.

            He found nothing except stillness, and it killed him inside.

            The sun was rising when he descended to the earth, and he didn’t slacken his pace as his feet hit the ground. The rays did not warm him as he was soon enveloped in the shadow of the church. Not daring to take his hands off Aralyn lest her faded life slip through his fingers, he rammed his shoulder against the thick, arched wooden door. They parted, a harsh sound reverberating in the spacious chapel, shattering the peace.

            He didn’t slow in reverence of the sanctity of the building he had fled to, but ran forward until he was ankle deep in the yellow and white flowers.

            Losing his pride, he threw himself to his knees, holding Aralyn near to his body. He was numb to the caress of the blossoms as they waved in the gentle breeze, like tiny hands brushing at his body as if to ebb away at his strength. They found nothing to take; it was already gone. He was bathed in the pale sunlight spilling from the broken rafters, but could feel none of its warmth.

            “Aerith,” Sephiroth called in an urgent, tortured voice. “Aerith…please…”

            The stillness of the chapel pressed on him until he broke. He bent over, still clutching Aralyn. Dry sobs tore from his throat and his shoulders heaved. “Aerith!”

            _Sephiroth._ It was a quiet, bell-like voice that answered his calls. The voice of the Cetra rang in his mind even though it had been merely a whisper. _You came?_

            Sephiroth somehow managed to swallow his emotion enough to regain his voice. “Aralyn’s never done anything…she’s innocent! Please…you can’t let this…I know you can…I’ll do _anything_!”

            The Cetra waited a long time before replying. _I know you would, Sephiroth, but it doesn’t work that way_.

            “ _No_!” Sephiroth howled. “No! You must…you can’t allow her to take my punishment! Take me! Give her my life…it’s hers! I can’t go on without her! Please, Aerith, I beg of you…”

            A warm, gentle hand laid itself on his forearm, fingers tightening reassuringly. _Sephiroth, there is nothing I can do…I am…truly, and infinitely sorry._

            “You can!” he cried, refusing to accept the truth. “I’ve seen you! Cloud…you sent him back! How much more deserving is my Aralyn of her life? She would rather die herself than hurt anyone!”

            _You misunderstood me._ Aerith continued. _I have the ability, yes, but you must understand that I cannot do what it is you ask of me._

            Sephiroth couldn’t breathe.

            _I hold no grudge against you, Sephiroth. I am not doing this in revenge of what you did to me._

            Sephiroth opened his mouth to reply but she spoke again.

            _What was Aralyn’s final wish?_ She asked it, but he knew that she knew the answer.

            “I can’t,” he choked. “I can’t…I have nothing…I _am_ nothing.”

            _Were you not a god?_

            “That means nothing to me!” It was true. Jenova and all the glory and power she had promised him seemed less than worthless when compared to this woman that he held. The alien had claimed to be his mother, yes, and he had loved her as such for a time, but then she had betrayed him, and even now was laughing at the death of the innocent maiden in his arms.

            He would never listen to Jenova again.

            _Then Aralyn has not died in vain. With her death, she has liberated you._

            He looked down at the pale face of his cherished angel, her beauty undimmed by death.

            _This is not the end, Sephiroth. This is the beginning._ Aerith clutched his arm all the tighter. _There are souls who will die without you!_

            “Name them!” Sephiroth roared, suddenly turning on the Cetra. Aerith backed away, frightened by his fury. “Name one reason I have to live!”

            Aerith paused.

 _Your children_ , she whispered.

            Silence rang for more than a minute, but then Sephiroth’s anger and pain exploded in the form of a harsh, accusing laugh. “You’re lying, and you’re mocking me. My children died shortly after birth!”

            _They live!_ Aerith insisted. _They live and they need their father!_ He could feel her beginning to fade, and she spoke more urgently. _If you loved Aralyn, respect her wish! Live for her, Sephiroth, if you have nothing else to live for._

            Sephiroth continued to call, but Aerith would no longer answer.

            He lasted only a few minutes longer before the agony became too much for him to bear. He crumpled, sobs wracking his form. In what little breath he could gasp, he pleaded with the woman in his arms to wake.

            But she did not move even when his tears fell on her icy cheeks.

            Sephiroth had never been so very alone.

~*~*~*~


	85. The Parting

Chapter Eighty-Five: The Parting

            Vincent was the first to enter the clearing in the Forgotten City, closely followed by Vega and Yazoo. All were struck by how silent it was. They could see Sephiroth, who was still bent in the waters, his head bowed over Aralyn’s body. It was a solemn, mournful occasion.

            Sephiroth didn’t turn even though the party was sure that he heard their approaching footsteps. When Vega tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, he flinched away, rejecting the offered comfort.

            Vincent motioned for Vega to leave him be. Still, she chose to sink to her knees beside him. He turned his face away, hiding his silent tears behind the silver veil of his hair.

            “There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Vega whispered. “Tears don’t make you weak, Sephiroth.”

            Sephiroth shuddered. Vega looked and sounded so much like his beloved Aralyn. It was a cruel trick to see and hear such a similar likeness of his wife when he knew that in reality she was in his arms, lifeless. The illusion savagely twisted a barb in his already aching heart.

            Vincent, emboldened by Vega’s timid words, spoke next. “It’s time to let her go.”

            Sephiroth visibly tensed, and gasped a small but sharp intake of breath. “I can’t,” he whispered in a strained and weak voice.

            “You must, Sephiroth,” Vega reassured him gently. “Return her to the planet, release her spirit.”

            The General did not move, and still held Aralyn protectively.

            “Would you rather that we did it?” Vincent asked.

            “…No.” Sephiroth admitted.

            Vega took his hands. “Then let’s do it together.”

            Slowly, with a lot of coaxing from Vincent, Yazoo, and Vega, Sephiroth rose to his feet. Moving slowly, he walked deeper into the waters until the level was just above his waist. He gently laid his wife on the surface of the water, her golden hair swaying gently with the waves, her eyes forever closed and her skin a deathly hue, but her face was serene, and a faint smile adorned her lips.

            Three more pairs of hands joined Sephiroth’s in supporting the limp woman, the waves lapping over her body though her face remained dry, facing the heavens. Slowly, Sephiroth withdrew his left hand and eased it out of the black glove, revealing a golden wedding band. He gently entwined his fingers with Aralyn’s, their wedding rings touching. Tears fell anew down his cheeks as he used his other hand to feel the rainbow pendant that still, to this day, hung around her neck.

            There was another necklace that his fingers encountered; one that he had never seen before.

            On a simple silver chain hung a pendant in the shape of a single, black wing. Only a single silver line that divided the wing in two flawed the workmanship.

            “A broken wing…” Sephiroth whispered.

            “She had me fix it before she died,” Vincent added. “It was the last thing she ever asked of me.”

            With a trembling hand, Sephiroth reached up and touched her face. “Aralyn,” he breathed. “Forgive me.”

            Everyone stepped away so that Sephiroth alone was holding Aralyn. It was many long moments before he too, fell back, releasing her and surrendering her to the same waters that had claimed Aerith all those years ago.

            When her body had disappeared, Vega rushed forward to comfort him, but Sephiroth spread his wing and disappeared, black feathers showering the trio and falling to the surface of the clear waters.

            “Will he be all right?” Vega asked, taking a single soft feather in her fingers. “Maybe we should go after him…”

            “No,” Yazoo answered. “Let him grieve alone.”

~*~*~*~

            Kadaj headed for the chapel from the east while Verian had made his way from the west. Both had stealthily crept through the inky night. Only when they had entered the chapel did they dare to speak.

            “Where is Aralyn?” Verian demanded. “You promised her to me!”

            “Did you find Sephiroth?” Kadaj asked coolly.

            Verian grit his teeth, infuriated by the remnant’s calm composure, as if their plans hadn’t been shattered. “He wasn’t at Willow Dale. Now where is she?”

            Kadaj scoffed. “Sleeping with the fishes in the Forgotten City, I do believe. Sephiroth saw to that.”

            “But I need her!” Verian yelled at Kadaj. His face was a beet red.

            “And I needed Sephiroth _dead_ ,” the silver haired man shot back. “But I must wait a little longer for that as well.” Before Verian could protest, he explained. “You’ll have those powers that Aralyn had, but unless you are particularly keen about fishing a corpse from freezing waters, I have another way to satisfy you.”

            “And in return?”

            “I want the job done. Sephiroth will not fight you; you have nothing to fear from him. He’s beyond shattered.”

            “How can I know that you’ll get me Gloria Dawn’s powers?”

            Kadaj grinned. “The one you want is not Gloria Dawn. Her blood runs in the veins of her young children, and they will suit your purposes perfectly. An old… _friend_ …has them in his possession even as we speak. He will prove to be a valuable ally for both of our purposes.”

~*~*~*~


	86. Conclusion

Chapter Eighty-Six: Conclusion

            Sephiroth’s Masamune was bared, his knuckles white as he clenched the hilt. In his other hand, he held a materia so dark that the purple seemed black. The materia shimmered darkly, as if sensing its master’s intent.

            He strode onward past the Shinra guards, not attempting to fight back other than sweeping them aside when they got in his way. He didn’t particularly care if they died or not. His quarrel was not with them.

            The guards missed neither the absence of the glow of insanity in the ex-Soldier’s eyes nor how they had lost the luster that indicated a strong, driven bloodlust. His emerald eyes always looked forward, but a mist clouded them, and they might have been the unseeing eyes of a dead man.

            One lucky guard managed to hit Sephiroth with his shattered sword, drawing blood that ran freely down the General’s arm. Sephiroth did not flinch, and did not seek revenge, only continued his steady advance forward.

            The command came from Rufus for the guards to stand down, to let him advance. Puzzled, but bound by oath to obey, they sheathed their weapons and stepped aside.

            Sephiroth stopped at the large, bolted door. With his back still turned to the guards, he spoke in a lifeless, toneless voice.

            “Tell Rufus not to come after me.”

            One slash of the Masamune and the thick iron door fell aside, and Sephiroth disappeared into the cloudy darkness of Jenova’s cell.

~*~*~*~

            No one dared to speak to Vincent when he entered the Seventh Heaven for the first time in weeks. His ruby eyes were flaming, and his face spoke of fury. He walked with purpose, not glancing at any of Avalanche.

            But someone had to ask him what was on all of their minds. Yuffie, convinced by the blunt end of Cid’s spear jabbing into her thigh, finally squeaked it out.

            “Where’s Aralyn?”

            Vincent stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. “Dead,” he said quietly, still managing to sound harsh and accusing.

            Every member of Avalanche took this with varying degrees of sympathy. Barret only nodded briskly, seeming undisturbed, while Tifa hung her head, her expression unreadable. Marlene began to cry.

            Cloud’s eyes had only darkened. “Then where is Sephiroth?”

            Vincent hesitated. “I have not seen him in weeks. For the first few days, there were feathers on the water, so I assumed he had visited her grave, but now…nothing. He’s disappeared.”

            Cid nodded, seemingly in approval. “Let him taste what he’s put so many others through…assuming he even cared for the wench at all.”

            Tifa looked out the window. “He did care,” she whispered to herself. “In the end, he remembered his love. He must be devastated…”

~*~*~*~

            Sephiroth’s demeanor was entirely different from the last time he had been in this chamber. Though he was every bit as calm and determined as he had been the last time, this time his objective, clearly made present in his eyes, was not to rescue.

            It was to kill.

~*~*~*~

            Cloud felt the difference immediately. It was as if something had died within him, leaving a void, a hunger. Vincent looked at him, nodding. “You felt it too?”

            “What was that?” Cloud exclaimed, confused.

            “You will recover,” Vincent assured him. “And if you are so affected, imagine what Sephiroth must be going through right now.”

            “Jenova…” Cloud’s eyes widened in understanding. “He killed her?”

            Again, Vincent nodded.

            “Why?” Cloud persisted. “She was his mother.”

            “She was not!” Vincent insisted. Cloud realized instantly that what he’d said had been seen as an insult to Lucrecia. Avalanche wisely let silence mend the hurt.

            Vincent shook his head. “Why would he not?” he said in answer to Cloud’s question. He retreated upstairs.

            Tifa again pondered the events that had occurred under the shade of the glittering white trees, feeling the somber remnants of the horror at the still vivid images in her mind.

            “Maybe,” Tifa said slowly, “maybe we misunderstood…”

~*~*~*~

            _The room was only illuminated by a thin strip of light around the perimeter of the room and the eerie, otherworldly glow of the mako tanks. Sweet, consuming silence would have been preferred to the gentle hum of voices beyond the eastern wall. In the corner, huddled close, laid two silver-haired children._

_Aidan tried to concentrate on the gentle breathing of his sister instead of the voices, knowing that they were only planning what to do to them next._

_Nadiya and Aidan were curled up against each other, trying to share body heat, as they were given no blanket. One of Nadiya’s soft wings was draped around her brother, but it was too small to protect his entire body, especially as his form, clothed only with a thin hospital gown, was pressed against the cold, tile floor._

_Nadiya, who was painfully thinner, quivered constantly. Aidan’s tiny arms could not shield her from the draft._

_Aidan tried to sleep; he knew that he would need his strength for whatever it was that Hojo was planning, but he couldn’t. In the darkness, he prayed that he would be the chosen victim. The last experiment had driven Nadiya into a coma, and she had only been allowed to return to him now._

_He wouldn’t let that happen again._

_Nadiya stirred, opening her deep green eyes and peering at her brother. He wondered if she had been awoken by a nightmare, as she was painfully tense, and in her eyes were still traces of very real fear._

_It didn’t matter that Nadiya couldn’t speak; they understood each other because their plea was identical._

_“We’ve got to get out of here…”_

~*~*~*~


End file.
